poems.

{ seeing. believing. }

some say seeing is believingbut I cannot see my Lordhe is always all around me, yet never in my sightrestrained from his supernatural existence,bound to a physical world.yet like a blind man feeling the sunI know when his presence is nighdespite my every limitand the restrictions of my humanityI knowI feel himI hear himat times …

posts.

Losing Face.

Two years ago I strode through the bustling streets of Boston, swimming through crowds in Quincy market, standing shoulder to shoulder with strangers riding the T, joining hundreds of onlookers on the Freedom Trail. This last weekend was different. For the first time since the beginning of the COVID 19 pandemic, I traveled back to …

poems.

{the lake}

The lake is angry tonight she is dark and broody and deeptorrents of rain cascade from heaven  and crash upon her waves unwelcome they pierce herharshly they pelt her she rumbles, she roars she shivers she breaks at times so peacefulso still, so calmnow shattering like glass dangerous and wild waters once lovedin the quiet of the sun are feared and …

poems.

{good friday}

a day of death, of sin, of painhow could we call it good?the day the son of man was slainhow could we call it good? his flesh they whipped, his heart they torehow could we call it good?the wrath he suffered to settle our scorehow could we call it good? piercing nails and searing thorns,how …