a prophetic voice-

   Sometimes, sitting and thinking is about all I can force myself to do, especially on a day like today has turned out to be- sun-filled and warming and bright and blue, the grass bright green from three days of much- needed rain which nevertheless gave me the blues. I want to be creative, want beautiful words to emerge from my l atent poet’s heart, want to put loveliness and hope and wonder out there into a world which seems to need them all so much. I want to feel useful, to have a sense of having accomplished some thing with this April Wednesday. But, you see, I am still in the doldrums…still lost in the wilderness…still wandering in a spiritual desert- though I have been here before, so there is a certain familiarity to it. Doesn’t make it any easier, though, this sense of lostness…in spite of the déjà vu quality per- vading it. Wandering in the wilderness is never, ever easy.    Just ask my wandering Hebrew forebears, the ones who spent forty y...

How can anyone possibly not believe in resurrection, in new life, with everything bursting into bloom here in North Carolina? My drive to church has presented an ever- changing panorama of color over the past few weeks, a delight to the eyes...a special joy when my both my spirit and flesh are tired and in need of rejuvenation. And it astounds me just how quickly it has happened. Not so very long ago, the trees lining Highway 52 were bare, presenting their naked arms to the sky- beautifully stark  but truly barren to the eye. And then- pow! Leaf buds showing red and green...then unfolding into leaves of every variety...redbuds and forsythia painting the landscape with delicate hues of yellow and pale purple. And just this week, clouds and crowds of dogwoods seemingly emerging out of nowhere, filling the woodlands with their bridal-wreath white blossoms, dancing with joy in the April breezes. All around my neighborhood, flocks of azaleas are bedecking  yards...

Two poems today, one from early morning when I was serenaded by a wren and a robin, perched together on my deck railing, singing in chorus...the second written this evening, as I recalled the scenery on my drive home, the vivid green where only short weeks ago there had been only brown...my words offered tonight as my way of saying goodbye to April and bidding a welcome to May. true community Unity Community A wren and a robin Perched on my deck railing  Voices lifted in chorus Tiny wren Full-breasted robin Differences forgotten Unimportant As their two voices Became one in Offering greeting To the new day spring greenery... All around me the world is greening the green of growth and aliveness                   of springtime and new birth every imaginable shade and hue                              with a few       ...

After chilly days and bone-chilling nights, spring is returning to Carolina once again. In fact, I ate a late lunch on my backyard deck today, immersed in and reveling in the sunshine, the birdsong, and the delicate chorus of windchimes. The patterns made by the tree branches swaying in the breeze was almost hypnotic and I found myself soothed by their leafy rustle. How totally amazing just to sit and BE...to let myself be bathed in the healing balm of the natural world. As much as I love people- and I do, my friends, I do- there are just moments when the lack of people, of voices, of words, feeds my spirit in the way it most needs. And now I've moved to the front screened porch, serenaded by yet other windchimes and by the enticing, enchanting whisper of the breeze which murmurs continuously this afternoon, speaking of love and hope and promise...speaking of the wonder and goodness of life...offering the gift of another holy day to this often-weary pilgrim. Oh, and doesn't...