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Tag Archives: writing
“Reason to Write Poems”
— Song of My Soul, Song of My Tenelach I do not writeto follow rulesor to walk the tidy pathssomeone else laid down. I writebecause something inside mehas begun to speak—a small trembling voicethat feels less like my ownand more … Continue reading
“Over the two screws*”
I used not to ask anything. All my life, I did the work myself. Do it alone — never ask — that was my rule. And yet, there I was again on the bathroom floor, learning that nothing about making … Continue reading
“Absent Labor, I Fade Away”
Time movesin its quiet circles, and I move within it— a small figurein the workshop of days, one pair of aging handsamong the countless handsthat have built this world. Absent labor,I fade away. Not yet into death, but into somethingalmost … Continue reading
“SWIM AS JUBILEE” II
(1) Swim— O my soul, swim. Do not turn backwardinto the dim coves of memory,where yesterday keeps its broken boatsand old voices call us by nameswe have already outgrown. Swim. Swim as Jubilee. Swim toward the widening horizon,toward the place … Continue reading
“True Music”
— With a Heart Longing for Peace I stand upon the shore. The sea roars. The wind moves. The moon waits. The sun gives. All of them draw one another through the quiet conversation of the universe. Far beneath, the … Continue reading
“Dandelion”
TodayI complete my seventy-seventh yearupon this generous earth, and I receive the dayas one receives morning light— without deserving it,yet full of gratitude. Yet while I rejoiced, another birthdaywas unfolding beyond my sight. Somewhere near Vladivostok, an old Korean familygathered … Continue reading
“Living in the Well”
—while in conversation with Rev. Tim Riss There are those who spend a lifetime living inside a well. The sky above them is neither false nor complete. It is simply the measure their eyes have learned. To know the boundary … Continue reading
“When the Earth Cries Out”
(For Joan Sebastian Guerrero, Lorenzo Salgado Araujo, and all whose names become prayers) The earth cried out before anyone spoke. Before the reports were written. Before the questions were asked. Before explanations searched for words that could never mend a … Continue reading
“Heart of Listening Stories”
My wife has been the faithful witness to my life. Not because she walked every road beside me, but because she listened from the other end of the table where my friends and I have gathered through the decades. In … Continue reading
“Fresh Waters, My Home Church”
– For Changchun Methodist Church, 120 Years A clear stream runs through the world, not with noise, not with power, but with the patience of water finding every thirsty root. On a Sunday morning, the prophet speaks again: “These waters … Continue reading
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