“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”   I looked to the pines for answers I have yet to know. I waded in rivers too deep for my soul. I hid secrets in oaks searching for keys. I wandered aimlessly trying to please….

Metanoia I am on the road to Metanoia Things cannot stay the way they are This no longer works This is no longer sustainable Metanoia I am on the road to Metanoia Standing before a mirror I no longer like what I see I no…

The sun is so bright How could there be a sad day The sun is so bright It lights the moon in a special way The sun is so bright My day will never be the same The sun is so bright My skin can…

The land knows you, even when you are lost. It will find you and bring you home. Sometimes faith feels so distant and it leaves the landscape dark. But the light inside of your spirit will illuminate bright with a steady spark. Keep your eyes…

The way my father’s eyes changed colours Greenbluegrey and all the admixtures How alexandrite shifts from bluegreen To purple as the light flickers Or how dichroic glass breaks into small rainbows The word a poet gave me ~ Chatoyance

Father and Daughter   Heavenly Father, I praise Your name and thank you for amazing grace and Your love, so undeserved. You are my Savior.   Sweet Mandi, my child, I loved you before you knew me. Let not your heart be troubled. I will…

prompt 14 They say the land knows you, even when you are lost, but what good does that do when you do not know yourself? A wanderer can only wander for so long before his traveling become his identity. -h.e.m.

“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”   It feels your soul It knows your gifts It knows your sins It washes you in rain Solidifies you with cold It melts your heart when the day is hot The land knows you because…

At this point, I should know about these things, but I don’t. I should see then coming, anticipate them, but, they stretch my skin tight, and beat themselves against me in strange, terrifying, war rhythms. I want to know if I am too simple, or…

Mountains. Dirt beneath my feet, rocks poking my toes. Cold air, fresh.  Lost, wandering. Trees tower above, their leaves vast and wild. Their ancestors of the past crunch beneath. No one around, safe.  Intrigue swirls around my head, isolation. Curves on the horizon mimic mine, ebbing and flowing….