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I’m still tip-toeing around this place like an uncertain guest. Stopping to pause at every window, checking to see that the sky is still there. Stepping across the road to retrieve the mail, the old corn field opens before me like the ocean. ...
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This is the field across the street from our house. Lovely, isn’t it? A new nest rests in the pine tree now. The Mourning Dove and her eggs are gone. Too early for the eggs to have hatched, we wonder what happened – a...
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I woke up early on the morning I was scheduled to preach and drove to the spacious, wooded park a few blocks from our house. In preparation for speaking on the story of Elijah’s widow, I wanted to gather enough sticks to spread across a make-shift altar space,...
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“When you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it.” Isaiah 30:20 I’m thinking of the wee, tiny cubs, born blind and helpless in the dark den of winter....
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Does the Cardinal know his own colors – the spark he creates by simply being? Maybe you also are a bird of brilliant hue, long sought by weary eyes in a landscape, barren. Photo source HERE. Linking with dVerse Poet’s Pub. Click over to...
