Tonight I blurred my words and remembered you, fondly. Sometimes when you blur your words with a friend—it heals your soul, and you know you’re not alone. You are not alone. The vagueness of life demands analgesic, and sharing of vulnerabilities leaves the sweetest taste. In the braided arms of convivial moments and beloved friends…
Category: Poetry
One Nod
In time, you stop gathering things and begin to collect moments. You learn to draw a deep furrowed line in the world to hedge off the chaos and begin to measure life by the wealth of blessing without sorrow and suffering that has spurned evil for good. At long last, you cease competition and cleave…
Winter Sweep
The fire crackles hot, while I drink steaming mugs of tea on the run. I would like to pause to mark these moments laden with winter beauty, the icy limbs of barren branches, the silver silence of powder snowfall, the midnight, moonlight sparkle of downy flake, and the blinding sting of noonday. But my closets…
Canadian Geese
Suspended in mid-air between heaven and earth, they soar. No preparations—not for a nano second do they fret, stew, holdback, or shirk this 3,000-mile, seasonal passage. Oh, those black wings beating over and through the windy currents. Heads held high. Hearts pumping fortitude for the long haul, and eyes focused due south. Inner radar, as…
Healing
The river of disappointment and sorrow—the one that catches in your throat and you swallow back, the one that stings your eyes hot with betraying tears—if you release that pain to stream freely, it will push out, out to empty itself into the vast deep of the salty ocean brine that scrubs clean the wound….
Orion and Pleiades
On summer nights in Colorado, I sat on a weathered wooden chair from Mexico that adorned our front porch. Little girl against the dark and cold of night, I engaged with the stars. Surrounded by a midnight blue velvet curtain loaded with millions of pin pricks shining clear, bright light. I found Little Dipper first…
Blueness
Blueness Six million dead and the blueness of a wound, scars in the inward parts, is there a blueness to revive us? None. But the bruises of a perfect lamb chastised for peace, for justice, for mercy. His blue bruises mingled with scarlet cleanses white, weightless white. See hidden here in the prophets’piercing pages of…
Secret Cove
Secret Cove The barren season moves with stealth behind the scenes of autumn, steadily edging toward the razor cold and lacy veil of ice and crystal. Then suddenly she falls, winter’s glorious mystique reveals in a day. In sparkling white layers, she manifests and penetrates deeper than surface chill and snowdrift for earth and sea…
Handel
Handel He never considered for a second the standing ovations, the wild applause, the tears of joy, the years of popular longevity, or the glorious manifest presence of the living God. Tattered velvet slippers shuffling upon the cold stone floor at midnight, he frantically searched by candlelight for inkwell, pen, and paper trying to pace…
Bonnie Saul Wilks 