Ashes of love
I own precious few family heirlooms. One I treasure is a worn black leather-bound pocket-sized ledger filled with poems. It first belonged to my great-aunt Nan,…
I own precious few family heirlooms. One I treasure is a worn black leather-bound pocket-sized ledger filled with poems. It first belonged to my great-aunt Nan,…
This mound was once a valley filled with bird song, footfall, the persistent running cascade of the river weir. I used to be the sun. Changes…
I see hair as proof of existence, a souvenir. A mourned dog, a dreamlike state, a snippet of conversation. The line of light has held. You…
Diane Schuller wrote a post for the new year made all the more beautiful by her amazing photos. Diane stated her wish that we would all…
Do you know something no one else knows? Practice it until you make it a song that sings you. Don’t pin your silence to a board.…
This is not a cowbell. It is a story wrapped in a linen shirt and carried from the old world into the new. It is origin.…
I live in the borderland of grief and joy. It’s tempting to fall apart. I have lived on the lip of insanity. Like a sundial I…
When John O’Donohue’s blessing for the end of the year came across my screen yesterday, my reaction was resistance. Isn’t that so often my way? To…
A silent stirring. The spirit of light. Everything is too much. Row. Here are all the words you need—use them wisely. This combistory is a little…
Bright blessings of the season to my friends and treasured readers. Thank you for joining me here in this online space. My life is so much…