Testimonies of Nature

Now that the world is silent for a moment, may we again hear the cries of the wind, the whispers of the trees, and the cadence of the river, all, and at once, singing the song of their Creator, the source of trembling power and unexpected life.

Firestone Friday: Poem XX

I cherish

your

grey hair

and

all of your

signs of living,

because they

reveal

moments, days, years,

that you

have grown

into your own

essence,

all the time

becoming

the most

radiant

thing

I’ve ever

known.

Ashes

It was

when I was

dust

that

I was

given the

embrace of life,

so I cry

into the wind,

“I can

scarcely

wait

to be

dust again.”

Touchstone Tuesday: Poem XIII

People tell me

they don’t get

poetry.

I want

to tell them

if they’ve ever

fallen asleep

with a

broken heart

or cried

as their child

wrapped their hand

around their fingers

for the first time,

they not only

understand poetry:

they’ve been

living it

for years.

On Clinging to Life

I cling to life

with white knuckles,

because it’s the only

thing I’ve ever known.

But, is that a good reason

to cling to something,

because it’s the only thing

you’ve ever known?