Marked for Resurrection

A blend of ash and oilsmudged upon my forehead.This mark.Not one of mourning,nor for the mortality of suffering —but rather,to honor the dust of our livesas atoms of transformationthat hover in the wakeof our becoming. Divine breath speaks,“Let there be light.”And, there IS.Here —I am sparked. Lit anewto walk the road,shed outgrown skin,claim holy desires that reside within,walk toward the resurrectionof Christlikeness only I can bring to the world. Today, I am marked to live fully. And, it is good.Very good.

Winter Poem

There,mother tree’swinter branches,her bare desolationin brisk air. She, a reminderof strengthin hard times, neitherafraid or ashamedof her raw nature. Her branches aren’t coiled around her trunk;they remain opento let death fly awaywith ease. As the last dry leaf shivers,she allows the wind to takelast year’s resolve. Soon enough,a bird comes to restin her unfurled arms,a feathered heartbeatgrasping at stark vulnerability. She reminds mewhat I need to hear this day:unadorned beautyis needed in the world.New life is around the corner. I am not alone. ONLINE BOOK CLUB ANNOUNCEMENT! Beautiful Women: From the very comfort of your own home, you are invited…

To the Wonder Seekers

Hello, wonder seeker, light keeper, day dreamer! You are here. And, so am I. Funny how we keep meeting. In this place. In that place. Wherever you are, the quest carries on. Surprise! I’m here again! It’s as if I follow you. Or, are you trailing me? Either way, we connect again. I arrive in buttered crumbs on crumpled napkins. I glisten in the forgotten cracks of sidewalks. I honk playful in rubber squeaky toy fashion. Of course, you already know this. You ARE a wonder seeker. You and I are well acquainted. Some days you veer away from me….