Tag Archives: grace
Psychically dismembered since birth, Grace walked her palms to her feet, and prayed that everything lost, in between, would return ritually transfigured. Advertisements
It has finally come, bearing a fount of bruised petals, blood-pink and white and reigning silvered silence, the year the meek inherit the earth, the plight of sensuous souls flown within to claim tenderest grace on loan from God’s rimless … Continue reading
Through the grace of repetition, the writing life grounded in the slow, wistful measures of wellspring’s fortune.
Fasting on remedial prayers, hunger flinting the strike of peerless light at tunnel’s end.
The tenderest means to a true center is through loss accepted gracefully and yes praised.
It is strange, and indelibly touching, how a sacrifice to the winter gods and summertime sadness co-exist as one and the same thing.
Woman, vimming grace, there is no need to explain– Your fire, your fate.
To walk in fields of blue lightning, to see with a child’s snow-driven eyes, is to receive awe and grace; the tasseled forks of God’s split tongues and blonde fuzzies coercing you to savor.
By exacting standards, I have held myself aloft, bated, the invocation to surrender, in bald tatters, now tags me to move, in rapport with grace, into suppler imaginings.
Lighted faith for fools, orphan-heart rigged to wander– every moon Home.