Culture, that place in the mind, Where beauty and excellence abode, Where God lifts us up to find and… Where we find peace in the lifting… The peace that we didn’t know we h…
Holidays approaching not like last… On alert for the Corona-Virus fea… For families spread out around the… Not the same as many years back; But we keep them in our hearts tod…
An ode to botany’s sacred cycle, The season of its resurrection. The time for us to til the soil, The time for us to plant a seed, The time to look for the new life,
Dear God. As my heavy heart led me through the 624 acre cemetery last Memorial Day, I couldn’t help but think about all the heroes that you created that were willing to die for me just...
Some Cupids don’t get it right. Some Cupids see the light. Some Cupids fly around in a cloud… Some Cupids stand above the crowd… Some Cupids don’t know how to fly…
Damn spam scam plan man smart phone calamity man Sam stationed inside the phone to scare the hell out of you is throwing a conniption
The Final Stanza My heart and soul laid out for the… Each word is a wind blown pollen It searched for me through sharp t… It landed in my empty dreams of yo…
A trivial seed of future’s promine… a scrap blown away in the teeth of… a wandering into another world, a love affair of the natural kind, an answered plea of nature’s longi…
A precious resonance echoed within… A tolling that brought the spirits… A golden sound that clung to my sp… A spiritual sanctification from th… A lingering that lingered not long…
Last night our little church participated in a district meeting to hear a deliberation from our Regional Bishop concerning disassociation from the Global Methodist Churches. We have to ...
Ameba Pride Lift your heads high amebas If you have heads to lift If you don’t have heads Then what do you have?
........and the angels foresaw a continuous hunger throughout, a cessation in the human chain, a flaw in the propagation of the species,
“Waiter, I can’t eat this steak. It’s too tough,” said the customer… “I’ll get you a hammer and a chise… said the waiter. “Bang, bang, bang… went the sound of the hammer.
Sounds of Freedom As the ordinary grows tired And the music sits still Old avenues lose their luster And bright colors begin to fade
The Freshening When the seasons hath laid their m… On hillside’s dreary faces up nort… Gone to prayer with frantic prattl… Time to quell the rage marching fo…