I wonder what is going to happen? When we think about time, we tend to imagine it as a line. We imagine a line that starts with our birth, way back behind us, moves up to the present moment, and then extends out into the future in front of us. Our language reinforces this idea: we say things like, “back, when I was a kid…” or “I’m really looking forward to Christmas…”But there is something strange about this idea…
Autumn Sonnet #3 By May Sarton I wake to gentle mist over the meadow The chilling atmosphere before sunrise Where half my world lies still asleep in shadow And half is touched awake as if by eyes. Sparse yellow leaves high in the air are struck To sudden flame as the first rays break […]
God has an intention for us.
But this intention is not perfectly defined for us. This intention contains mystery. It contains the invisible fifteenth stone.
Summer Kitchen by Donald Hall In June’s high light she stood at the sink With a glass of wine, And listened for the bobolink, And crushed garlic in late sunshine. I watched her cooking, from my chair. She pressed her lips Together, reached for kitchenware, And tasted sauce from her fingertips. “It’s ready now. Come on,” […]
…the “Tangerine-of-future-plans” is a common Tangerine. It is by far the most common kind of Tangerine. But a “Tangerine-of-now” is a rare and wonderful tangerine. It is the holy tangerine.
His Claim Mark Koyama The sky darkened. We stood under the trees—my boy only nine years old— the yellow slicker and blue rubber boots of his childhood, bright, like a fragment of sun left behind at the edge […]
Christianity, like all religions, quite easily becomes a tool for the powerful – but when this happens it is no longer Christianity – it is something else – a form of idolatry.
The essence of Christianity is not power. It is love.
Nature is not a place. Nature is both the fiber of our being, and the air, water and earth that sustains it.
So don’t talk about nature as if it is some quaint “view” that we have to preserve for our children’s children.
Reach down and feel the pulse at your wrist.
That rhythm that you feel? That’s nature.
Sleeping in the Forest By Mary Oliver I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed, nothing between me and the white fire of the stars but my […]
