"You try to play me like a fiddle when you don’t know how to play

Talking black and white observations when it’s really all gray…"

“The weather report is in. There’s been a long drought of prophetic vision and public moral courage. The situation is dire.

Your divining rods for compassionate justice and Beloved Community can transform the forecast.”

“And even though I can see you there, we aren’t in the same spot. Our paths crossed but never merged. I may see my resting place while yours is too far in the distance. We are different because we are and were shaped differently.”

I sat next to a sunburn
I sat next to a sea
His edges were salt
So strong the scent of water…

You can explain to me
In all the best vocabulary…

Artists whose tools are pencils, pens, and keyboards rather than brushes and paints rarely have the opportunity to display their literary thoughts unless they have a publishing deal. And even then — where and how to share shorter written works?

Downtown York's The Grotto will provide that space, at least for the duration of the "Simple Pleasures" exhibition on written works.

I noticed when life got dark... so did the light in my eyes

Dreams of searching, didn't realize me I'd find

Rubbing stones to spark my divine

It's an equation to divide…

Facebook and social media are not all-or-nothing scenarios. We have choices, and we can choose how we approach them.

“In my spiritual tradition, Mabon is celebrated on the Autumnal Equinox and marks the second harvest. While the first harvest was celebrated in August with the gathering of grapes, berries, corn, wheat and grain, Mabon marks harvesting and feasting on the last of the corn, beans, squash, apples, pumpkins, root vegetables and pomegranates.”

"I am my Mother's daughter," I sigh.

Always that sigh, because this is a lament. That is how I use this phrase…