Keren Dibbens-Wyatt — Blood curdles into the grain Mixes fresh with old Responding, the sap sings Though long dead and now discarded Roughly hewn and unplaned Yours the only carpenter’s …
Ana Lisa de Jong — Lent. Speak to me. A word that holds such hidden depths. Take me on your hallowed ground, untouched, and unturned yet by heart or mind. …
Ana Lisa de Jong — Looks deceive, dead seed pods and limbs bereft of leaves. Grey leaden sky, and chilling winter breeze. We hunker down, layered like the earth beneath. …
Cynthia Helton — The Wind is howling outside. Does it frighten you, or invigorate you? It blows for a reason. Change is in the air. To many it is uncomfortable …
by Andy Wade I wrote this poem the other day after a couple of weeks of reflecting on these changes of church seasons. Advent to Christmas to Epiphany and on. …
You must be logged in to post a comment.