Tag Archives: Faith

Walter

Here he is, meet Walter, he was raised up on a farm
His pawpaw taught him to fear Jesus and never do no harm
Walter loved his mama, fried chicken, and fishing too
Pawpaw taught him about honor and sacrifice
Noble ideas worth a fight, son. They’d cost his left arm

Now I suppose everyone starts out about the same way
Some folks grind the gears and bounce down the highway
While others no doubt ride smooth rails of silver spoons
Life on the farm was full of bumps and bruises and pain
But Walter knew love and his heart there would stay Continue reading Walter

Eclipse

Light bends around darkness, weaving a cosmos on a loom beyond ken. Here and now, darkness slithers closer. It’s tongue flickers toward the window of her inextinguishable soul.

Does she notice? Perception: a personal vantage. Sight and experience. Angles and patterns. On what do her gray eyes linger?

Perhaps she sees fear or awe. A child’s excitement. A cherished dream from her youth reflected in your inadvertent actions, hidden in windows shuttered by shadow. Continue reading Eclipse

Crack the Sky

Heavy rains falter; the promenade is awash with the runoff of deluge. Soggy bike tires hum, squeegee forward. Before us the sun explodes forth, cracking the sky. A last evening ride in la Cota d’Azur.

With the smell of rain and sea and the golden light reflecting above and below, there is closure.  Moods rise and fall as melodies, delightful to dark, back again. Continue reading Crack the Sky

Carolina Morning

He stood at the window of the little white house, nestled among the live oaks. Spanish moss swung gently in the breeze. His old rough calloused hand shook as it brought the steaming mug of coffee to his mouth.

The old chair at the table creaked, like a sigh, and the newspaper crumpled as she refolded it. “Well. Do ya just want toast today or shall I make some eggs too?” she asked laying the paper on the Formica table top, folding and setting her reading glasses on top.

Continue reading Carolina Morning