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Continue reading →: Cool Conversation
The wind swayed a tall pine back and forth. The whispers fell like needles into my innermost. The rain sprayed my spine up and down. The spit spat cold on my cheek bones. Strange beauty, sensual mystery. #WheatheringGod
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Continue reading →: You Are
I say my prayers fast before my mind pulls apart these folded hands. God, You are. I lift my arms as a child reaching. an alchemy of receiving and giving. Father, You are. I run into the world with a tension, attention to the beauty and brokenness. Jesus,…
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Continue reading →: New Day
Oh this sun, sliced off to roll across this day, light this landscape, and birth its shadows.
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Continue reading →: Manna
Bread of heaven, unleavened. Gathered grace, a taste. Wait a minute.
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Continue reading →: Conversations With God Part Two. Fear.
How are you feeling today? What do my feelings have to do with anything? I thought truth was the ultimate. I care about your feelings, and I Am the Truth. Another tension I suppose. Your suppositions precede you. I am pleased you have taken time to rest and think of…
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Continue reading →: Conversations With God Part One. Hurt.
I am calling you back amidst the pluralism and disparity of your mind. There is truth and you must turn to seek it again. Don’t Pontius Pilate Me. Don’t ask the question and walk away before getting a response. I am Truth. But there is so much to trail off…
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Continue reading →: Off Kilter
The ceramic last supper slipped, tipped cockeyed over the canned cranberry sauce. The twelve and Jesus hung high just beyond our consciousness. “We thank thee, O Lord, and these our guests.” Hands clasped together I see Mom at one end and Dad at the other, and their disciples fidgeted while…
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Continue reading →: Breathtaking
Just above the tree line wind scrapes and sifts. I pray for its falling through to the forest floor where air crawls low like a dog’s nose picking up the scents of loam. Those pains we shed which enrich the soil, and peat our soul. Thank you for the…
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Continue reading →: Forecast
So many trees in the forest, weighted, bending in forgiveness. White gown of winter draped over their nakedness. The only evidences of wind are the flurries telling it slant, laying down like an accumulating truth.
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Continue reading →: Cache of cliché
I belly up to the bar And binge on clichés. I kick them back Like sudden accelerations. How can I go wrong When so many have said The same things over and over. It’s Déjà vu Vis a vis. Let the talking heads roll Like a tongue in cheek.
Gerald the Writer 