Our Healing Gift

In a futile attempt to erase our past, we deprive the community of our healing gift. If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others. ― Brennan Manning

Summer

Golden streams of liquid light flow thick and hot through tepid seas forgot within the march parading on the grounds of time's remorseless trot within the life of space.  A shrewd démarche, a haze lies thick amidst the sullen boughs weighed down by verdant arms made drunk by shining light.  A hush befalls the rotting …

Winter

In darkness lies midwinter’s lonely road beneath the bleak discriminating erne. He pads midst silent seas of snow and firn and stride upon the troglodytic wold. The sun grows shy before his slow advance, the moon tenaciously asserts her berth. Her glow illuminates the raven’s mirth and floods the season’s gelid, hoary manse. Amidst the …