Something to Celebrate (More on Soul Care)

This is no ordinary day. Today, she hears it said,“Love your neighbor as yourself.”* (as yourself)(as yourself) This echo ripples through her core. She had never heard it this way.It was usually:Love God. Love others.The end. (as yourself)(as yourself) There it is again. A bell rings within. “If I’m to love my neighbors as myself, How DO I love myself?” she ponders. Her non-stop days of hustle bustle come to mind.Quick eating. Limited exercise. Doing for others. Crumbs leftover for herself. She catches a snippet of harsh self-criticism in her mind;a thought she’d never dare say to another. Hmph. (as…

Love Is Here (Easter Blessings)

Swirls of celebration make their way over the dusty road,a heart traveling in the center,a heart that stands for justice,flips the common story of wealth as King —this Love kneels at the feet of the traveler,this Love gently washes the grime away,this Love hovers over the lonely,this Love invites the one who never fit to a feast,this Love holds the space with love.On the day when violence comes to destroy,Love says, “I love you.”In this, everything changes.As Love rains down on those who have ears,they in turn,pour love over Love,wet the seeds of Love,sit vigil and wait untilone day, after…

Invitation to SEE in the Dark

Shady black rolls into town —comes as stripes of darknessthat infiltrate the spaceThis story begins with the line,“On a dark and stormy night,”it’s an ancient story told —one you may have heard beforewith death as a central point When this thread is told,a cloak of grief descends,a dappled blue fog of sadness hangs,may even lure one towarda grim alleyway of lostnesswhere black is on trial Of all the hues, you see—black is the edgy oneit’s identity has been up in the air for some time— is it all pigments mixed togetheror the absence of light? this confusion has turned black…

Permission to Change

Trees bloom again —rings wider,branches longer,flowers brighter;a familiar Spring cycleof evolution. Familiar facesdrift through my memory —those who encountered meone year ago,three years ago,ten years ago,thirty years ago Friends whose paths have curved away from mine. Do I live in a locked boxin their memory the waythey live in mine?Faint impressions loopof prior connection—A laugh we shared,a certain point of view agreed upon,a break of misunderstanding,a comment made in haste. The pace of minutes age the drapery of skin I wear,despite my choosing. Mindful, daily steps offer the vessel of soul I bearto evolve with the seasons. I can’t change…

Seeker of Ash

Ash Wednesday · Beginning of LentFebruary 17th, 2021 I’m drainedfrom invitations to follow the Light —eyes on the prize of resurrection. As ifthe lightis the only thingwe needto seek,and it’s there. No. (there.) Just. out. of. reach. Separate from me. I try to grasp it. Arms stretched. Fingers. Can’t. Reach. the Blaze. I fall on my knees. Exhausted from Trying. Overhead, silver fingers wisp in the sky;they point to the ground. I take my fingers and press them into soft soil,move them through blades of grass —dirt finds my fingernails;I start to digwithout thought. Soon enough,I’m elbows deepin faint memorieslaced…