About Me

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I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. In the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Morning Song

What holds me here,
tethered, bound,
tangled in Your breath
and pools of scarlet gold?

The morning fog rests on
the ten thousand notes that rise;
they lift me,
and ten thousand grace notes
fall into the quiet,
the not-silence
of the early morning.

And I am held. Still.
I am bound
into the not-quiet.

I lift my eyes to the heavens
and I am blinded by the sun.

I lift my arms, and gravity
catches them; they fall without grace.

I lift my voice
into the vast not-quiet,
the almost-stillness.
into birdsong
into leaf-fall
and heartbeat.

And I bind myself anew,
I tether myself
to tattered corners
and lose fringes

And I am robed in a cloak of light.