it’s quiet here as if Grief is at last asleepAnd Loss departed, Words are wordless and even Yearning distracted by this stillness. The Pain of the World is in momentary lightnesshanging above like an ancient blanket. Here, the river is still water, oceans waveless and immutable. Is this the breath halted to an exhale? TheContinue reading “when you are winter”
"May my body be for what it was intended: an expression of Your grace. And what small ways I make with this poetry – what songs and friendships I form, what migrations and ripples I disturb in the world – may they have something of Your signature on them"
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