A good Sabbath to you…

,

Two Hands

Hope is
Two hands fisted,
Held before you side by side.
One caging in a wasp,
The other clasping
Butterflies.
Touch one too bold,
Provoke a sting,
Clutch the other,
You will crush,
Its wings.
Hope is holding,
Wishing with an ache,
The patient balance
Of two possible, opposing ways.
It’s to endure,
The weave of pain,
With grace,
The tension of a maybe grief,
Against a fragile, fluttering,
Faith.

Don’t worry.

After a morning of diligent work on niggling details, I drove over to one of the foothills near our house, a craggy king of a mountain named Mt. Herman. He has a fire-scarred face, knit back again with greening scrub oak and neatly planted rows of swaying blue spruce. Red dirt paths criss and cross [...]

Happy Sabbath

“You and I, each one of us without exception, can be defined as an aching need for the infinite.” -Thomas Dubay