Sunlight on the water this cool September morning, with rain clouds over the distant island; the earth pitch-perfect in communion. It took a lifetime of

In the dawn hour the sea lies flat between tides, no wind or movement, only the quiet of the coming day. As the sun rises

Communion is hard to come by when so much is based on untruth. Addiction to lying demands increasing doses, until the body collapses under the

My cask of praise empty, the last words of thankfulness consumed in the burnt forest, I struggle to the altar heart weary and without solace.

The morning won’t deceive you with its freshened air and sound of birds. You needn’t rely on memory; the timeless touch is on every plant.

South wind breaks in waves against the ebbing tide, sunlight falls in shafts on the rain-soaked shore. As I follow the sea’s motion anchors of

Lifted on summer waves, the pulse of life carries us beyond decay. New seeds crack open, revealing pale forms with boneless limbs, aching for daylight.

I whirl through space, a sea of aether and stardust, yet can’t lift my eyes from the dirt trodden path. I stumble around ignorant and

More stone than sea I’d be like water, touched by wind, loved by the moon. I’d dwell in deep canyons, travel the furthest reach, and

“It is the nature of stone to be satisfied. It is the nature of water to want to be somewhere else.” – Mary Oliver  

Look for me when leaves burst out and voices of spring ring full in the valley. Follow the snow melt along the Clackamas and Long

Spring flowers rattle the caves, provoking the apostles to take up their pallets of sorrow and leave dark comfort. Trees hide in the rain, fearing