five minute friday (on saturday): mom

He's crawling now -- all over the floor and under the furniture, examining the minute crumbs, the carpet fibers, and whatever else he can find. I pursue him with voice and hands: don't touch the power cords, don't crinkle the book pages: no, and no again. And he crawls to me, pulls himself up into…

Five Minute Friday: morning

And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, on the brown brink eastward, springs -- "Oh, morning." Gerard Manley Hopkins got it: morning is always on the way, circling our globe, coming back for us when we've watched all the light drain away and felt there was none left. "Weeping may…

Five Minute Friday (on Saturday): rise

I played piano for a funeral this morning. Funerals make me think. One day, if the Lord doesn't come back first, this body is going to stop, whether by external or internal means. These fingertips won't be able to feel the raised spot where a scrape is healing on the back of my hand; these…

poison ivy and eden

Summer approaches. I have incontrovertible evidence in the fact that poison ivy is emerging from its winter sabbatical. All along the sides of the path modestly drooping three-leaved clusters rise on tender red stems. Was the serpent in the Garden thus demure at first, hiding his shy face behind the thick-leaved fruit boughs, peering out…

small and glad

"Alice must grow small if she is to be Alice in Wonderland." --G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy Alice must grow small. My summer muse, Chesterton, looked me severely in the face and spoke this sentence just after I had typed the woefully self-pitying thought that I felt like a newly-hatched butterfly whose wings would not un-crumple.…

Dune Study #2

Dawn draws me up and up from bed to rooftop with a calling, many-waters voice, breath of blooms, glory with which the earth – sand, sea, roof – shines. Birds sing this light which might draw dry bones up and up from the valley of death to stand sinewed, to walk from death into dawn…

concerning tests, fruit, resurrection

Spring inhabits the out-of-doors, pollen-yellow and noisy with bird-song, growing thicker and greener by the hour it seems, trees partaking of the fruit that brings knowledge of good and evil and putting forth frail coverings: "I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid…