p a u s e

Dulcius Ex Asperis

l i g h t to guide you h o m e

"Lost and Weary Traveler Searching for The way to go. Stranger. Heavy heart-ed longing for Someone to know." This past month I have added fifteen people to my friends list (I've added plenty more but these particular fifteen are special).... Continue Reading →


g r a n d m o t h e r s

{q u o t e}

Jenkins seemed to be able to enjoy everything, even ugliness. I learned from him that we should attempt a total surrender to whatever atmosphere was offering itself at the moment; in a squalid town, seek out those very places where its squalor rose... Continue Reading →

Last Cast

This poem is dedicated to my brothers: three who never leave the water and the one who can't wait to join them. To the uncle who all too gladly shares his water. To the grand-man of the same blood who... Continue Reading →

l e g a c y

Here's to the wrinkled hands firmly holding each other in front of empty pews. Here's to the recreating of wedding pictures taken so many years ago, same couple, same pastor. Boutineer on her wrist, laughter in his eyes. Here's to... Continue Reading →

dear dad

I wrote a letter to mom on mothers day last year. I considered writing one to you on fathers day but didn't know where to start... I still don't really know, but it needs to be done and so, here i am.... Continue Reading →

but the greatest of these was love

There is a lot of weight to be found hidden behind certain words. Weight that speaks of yearning and hope, of a greater story tearing at the encasing of a single utterance. Forgiven She never stopped,  Never mistrusted the promised... Continue Reading →

Anxious about anxiety

Sounds like a pan full of popcorn ready to blow. And mostly impossible. Not so unbelievable, however, when the knot that sits heavy on the end of your sternum continues to wedge itself between your lungs, pushing the air out... Continue Reading →

Bike ride, a poem. 

Like all things there is an end To time. Seasons flourish and die,  Blossoming again in an endess cycle. Pedals beat a rhythm on the wind And gravel flies across asphalt, still Cold. Summer is on its way but Spring... Continue Reading →

Up ↑