Wednesday, May 21, 2014


The sunrise brings the day-words
In a basket of brightly burning flame.
Possibilities all jumbled inside,
and, if we are not careful, we will draw
Them out upside-backwards--sharp side outwards.

Words tumbling full of possibility.
Questioning, soothing, correcting, laughing.
Showers of words scattered like wild flowers.
Useful words ordering day by subject.
Sharp words wormy with malice and regret.

The sunset gathers the detritus and,
Recklessly denying another day,
Burns them on an honorable pyre.
We are left to ponder our selections
And vow to choose more wisely tomorrow.

Monday, May 19, 2014


Dry, waiting in the bowl, they glisten in their saccharine gowns, then they float like so many tiny, ill-fated life preservers. Milk-wet, lightly coated in sugar, crispy for those first frantic moments, then soggy like miniature, friable sponges.  Rarely, a lucky breakfaster will find one that is glassed over--Oh! the joy of that honey webbing.  

Cheerios, part of this complete breakfast, now dripping down the cabinet and becoming breakfast for

Saturday, May 17, 2014



Four tiny years we have known you.

You have convinced us all that you are a garden fairy.  Don't worry. We made place for you. Here where the sun slants through the fence in the morning, lighting the undersides of the leaves.  Between

Wednesday, May 14, 2014


A sleeping child is like a poem yet to be written. You know that when this force wakes up you will be engulfed in frenetic impulse.  A drive to be and discover that will root holes in the lawn and empty spices on the floor with the same joy. But when they are sleeping, with the morning light just there on the cheek still full with babyhood, they are still the dream of energy.  

Oliver woke up, ready to probe the universe's junk drawer of unasked questions, at 4:30 am.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014


The sunrise called to me this morning, but it was all too polite.

I did not hear, from the corner of my bed all wrapped in sheets and quilts and dreams, and so I missed what it had to say.

The mist wrapped dawn faded and was replaced by a much more insistent day to which I must attend.

Monday, May 12, 2014


Mother's Day

The day we celebrate the exact moment that I became insecure, overwhelmed, guilt-ridden and sticky.    The day I am thankful that someone took on this impossible role on my behalf (thanks Mom).  The day I pause to reflect that no matter how much I struggle and try I will fail, but in the failure become part of the great story of motherhood.

Hail Mary, 
Full of Grace

Eve raised a murderer, Rachel raised a cheat, Mary (the virgin) left her child in the largest city in her world.  We are all failures.  But for some reason, we keep trying.

Blessed are thou among women
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

In the beginning, God created...and God created man and woman in his own image.  We are bearers of God's image.  When we bear life from our life, we are agreeing to embrace the truth of love forever.  We are mothers from the day of conception and we carry those children..."forever and ever and always."  

Holy Mary,
Mother of God.

The Spirit of God hovered over the waters of chaos and was the very breath of life.  A mother hovers over the, admitted, chaos of her family and struggles to fill it with life.  

Pray for us sinners now
And at the hour of death.

So, dear mothers, come, join with the community of failed mothers and failed saints and know that the Gospel feast is for you.  The body and blood of our Lord was poured out by savagery and pointless hate, but the Creator God who's image he carried blossomed in the ashes of a terror stricken day and gave us hope.


To Laine, Annabel, Oliver and Gwyneth