My heart is a violin With strings played to the breaking, And wound so tight I have no breath Since the hour of waking. Still
Category: Poetry
Writing is Hard: A Lament
Writing is hard and I’ll tell you why: I am not the Bard and that makes me cry. Red pens are bloodstains on my poor first draft
Immediately: Eight Poems Based on the Gospel of Mark
In reading through Mark, I was struck by the recurring use of the word “immediately.” It is used to characterize many aspects of Christ’s ministry
“Good Boy”
When I was in second grade, a dream came true: we got a dog. It was rather unexpected, but it was probably one of the
Joy of Morning
God’s love is like a morning, Arising in my soul. A perfect, constant dawning, So warm and wonderful. . Though the earthly night
Two Poems for Two Places
Driving across my home state of Arizona, I was struck not only by the differences between my Sonoran Desert home and White Mountain destination, but
