We empty each other
and then wonder
what happened
to generosity
Faith, Health, and Other Musings
May our minds flourish with creation, and may our hands never deny its expression.
We empty each other
and then wonder
what happened
to generosity
I’m a collection
of narratives
given and forced,
left to sort out
what stories
are mine
(if any)
It’s not the dark
I’m afraid of;
It’s that my mind
Won’t leave it in
The corners
Or under the bed
Where it belongs
People in outrage
Over gas prices
Like our society
Doesn’t run on shame
Anyway
I’m haunted
by a thing invited
and a thing that invades.
I permit it
to a room’s space
and at every corner
I find it behind my face
At once
I’m a tendril of the divine
Connected to eternity
and yet
Just an appetite
With a voice and thumbs