Today

Is this child my child?

Placing a palm on the hot stove,

I ask, Is this child my child?

Staring into its tiny, starving face,

I ask, Is this child my child?

Then I go blind.

Hands covering my ears,

the exhausted cries seem muffled,

But still I ask, is this child my child?

I spotted you

Early morning

Perched up high

Wings open

Drying

In the rising sun

The waves pick me up

and let me down

and for a second there is

no gravity,

no concern,

nothingness,

close to the truth of Being Held.

Recently published first novel “Free Solo”. an inspirational mystery set on the coast of Maine. Izzy Billings, a chaplain lost in grief and doubt meets murder and evil. It’s her interesting search to see more clearly.

If interested can order through the author at paulieandpal@gmail.com Hope you enjoy. Mair

In the darkest, deepest cave

You will find me.

The dank, slippery walls will bring

fresh water for my soul.

The bone chilling cold

will set me on fire.

Things are not what they seem.

I turn to You

I return to You.

You are the Only Illumination there is.

Each day I drink from a broken cup.

Handle gone for years,

a crack on its rim,

comfortable in my two hands.

Out the window,

a gull flies over

as I sip.

Grey skies or blue,

I sip.

Me and the broken cup,

starting the day.

Sometimes,

one gull

flying slowly,

low

overhead

is enough,

enough reason

to love this mystery.

Sometimes,

the long shadows

growing across

the late afternoon grass

is enough,

enough reason

to stop worrying.

Certainly,

in the deep dark,

the real night sky,

alive with energy beyond count

is far and enough reason

to kneel.

Hungry so hungry

the only real hunger

I’ve ever known

only one grape offered

would be enough

if I received

Your offer

everything offered

everything received

time dissolves

space irrelevant

full.

Breathing dust

in the darkness,

my grandfather,

straining muscles,

til the cave in.

What happened next

no one knows,

cept his spirit moved on.

Sometimes I imagine him,

a man who took

his ill friends shift,

to never return home.

What do I carry of him?

Would I take my brothers/sisters shift?

Would I walk into the darkness?

Would I breath

in the dust of earth?

Yes, dear grandfather,

I will take my brothers/sisters shift.

I will walk into the darkness.

I will breath

in the dust of earth.

Ever notice

the earth gives way,

just a bit

when it feels your weight

upon it.

And you leave a track.

You leave a track.

If you’re a runaway

we could follow it

and find you.

If you’re a marauder,

we could make tracks

in the opposite direction.

Mostly though, we just walk

over the tracks of others,

never noticing.

The earth

though,

always notices.