Two loons on a lake
in the evening fog,
air thick with it,
pale water barely moving.
I’m like a days-old fawn
setting out for the grasses—
I’m nimble again,
I smell like the hollows.
Once, I wanted only sounds
and scents of another human—
I founded islands with my body
and we lived there, expectant.
Now, I want to take the whole world in,
to bear it back to brightness.
I feel this suddenly,
like fire in high summer
Posted by kind permission of Holly Wren Spaulding.
It’s ripe, the melon by our sink. Yellow, bee-bitten, soft, it perfumes the house too…
(at St. Mary’s) may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our…
I miss you, fellow walkers – dad with double stroller, rainbow legging woman, earnest black…
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We invite you to experience six blessings in this short, meditative video from Brother David: