I spent last weekend at St. Joseph’s Monastery in Kentucky taking part in a silent guided retreat: no phones, no books, no words. The nuns sang psalms at the appointed hours. Birds awakened us in the morning. I became accustomed…
Daisy fleabane
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I’ve been watching a mourning dove on her nest. I discovered the nest while removing some dead branches from the magnolia. Rogelio and his crew got the big branches down after the ice storm. The remaining ones were smallish…
Read this Mary Oliver poem at your own risk, friends. I had forgotten that Oliver can be so gruesome as she pins down the butterfly… The Rabbit Scatterghost, it can’t float away. And the rain, everybody’s brother, won’t help. And…
Snowballs float, field balm prays, Crow’s bane smiles, tulips fray (in my half-wild yard). A springtime poem by James Wright made me all joyful inside and I hope you’ll love it too… A Blessing by James Wright Just off the…