Posted in Uncategorized, tagged faith, hummingbird, journey, poem, poetry on July 4, 2016| 4 Comments »
Above my window
two tiny hummingbird beaks
hover just beyond the edge of a nest
which is smaller than my hand—
this, I think, is what it looks like,
the start of a long, long journey.
By fall, they will be in Mexico.
They don’t even know yet
they can fly.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged faith, love, poem, poetry, uncertainty on February 15, 2016| 1 Comment »
toeing the edge
of everything
we think we know
building a nest for us
on the other side
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged faith, poem, poetry on July 24, 2015| 1 Comment »
My fingers slip
as the hand holds crumble,
but I am so high
and I know there
are others below me
so I climb on strength
that is not mine,
though I cannot see
the destination nor
can I imagine how
I will keep going,
but I keep going,
I keep going,
one hand reaching
higher, then the other.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged conversation, faith, god, poem, poetry on May 26, 2013| 4 Comments »
So when I said,
God, sometimes
I am just so tired,
she said, (and it wasn’t
really a she, but it wasn’t
really a he, either),
she said, yeah,
not as if she were going
to change anything
more as if she knew
exactly what I meant.
And then I said,
God, I’m sorry.
I guess you’ve seen
all the bad stuff
I have done.
And she said,
yes, not as if
she thought
I’d been bad, more
as if she believed
I were truly sorry.
And then I said,
though it scared me
to say it, God,
sometimes I don’t
believe in you.
She nodded,
though it were
more like a wave,
like a current,
like a swell
than a nod,
and she said
nothing, as if
she didn’t want
to prove me wrong.