Luke 24:21 How hard to walk a bleak road           Do you not know? the path before us   uphill           Have you not heard? With talk of dreams   all past tense           our feet come to…

Working the dough in a bowl seems more poetic than having a machine do the kneading   Now a mechanical whir replaces whacking it   & watching it rise    beats returning it to the hot oven   & pulling it out at just the right time I tinker with recipes & assess consistency  …

So often you look at something      without really seeing it   like when           we saw you   & your ten friends                  staring into the sky    Later that day you couldn’t say      without first closing your eyes           if the clouds had been   high                & wispy or thick & glacier white  & we   not thinking of…

I have stood on the hillside Fra Angelico depicts where the gnarled roots of ancient olive trees still intertwine & grow from the roots of even older trees where twisted trunks & bent branches suggest an endured agony of their own where the weary disciples slept as Christ wept on…

I  Our Father   simultaneously far & near      my insufficient fear   could never drive me           to dive   deep as Titanic      on the wide Atlantic’s floor             for there’s nowhere to hide or if I tried an astro-Jonah        scooting to some far star             that’s where you’d be especially…

A dusty track curves into the wilderness Two walk eventually veering from that road across a land of dry stones one in physical form led by one unseen We hover just beyond his perception waiting & watching as he’s left to walk deeper into desert alone on his slow slow…

From my high tower first I saw it rise the harbinger portending divine birth a bright horizon star in the night skies announcing heaven coming down to earth Our caravan soon followed trade routes west in search of a grand palace for this king but over a poor town it…