Summer draws to a close, a new week begins, and I return to the deepening ground of Mary Oliver’s poetry. Hear the invitation to spend our lives “on some / unstinting happiness,” but not according to the world’s definition. Rather, the simple overlooked gifts that poets like Mary Oliver and Wendell Berry capture so beautifully. … More Mary Oliver Mondays: A Lesson from Late Summer #Poetry #Summer #Roses #MaryOliver
My daughter brought home a container of Magnetic Poetry, the Receivables Custom Edition, from work last week (she works at our local library). Since then, the refrigerator has become the deepening ground of our home with everyone chipping in to various poetic “masterpieces,” including the eight and ten-year-olds (grandma has not felt poetically inspired as … More The Addictive Nature of Refrigerator Poetry #Poetry #MagneticPoetry
When I began crafting this poem, I fully intended to mimic the style of Geoffrey Chaucer’s “General Prologue” to The Canterbury Tales: “When that August with his beastly heat…” However, I found the set meter and rhyme too restricting for the random wanderings of a father and his young sons up and down the stream … More A Midsummer Afternoon’s Dream
And so it comes to a close… Another summer wraps up within the next ten hours for me. Tomorrow morning, I will rise in the dark of a new day, put on my dress clothes, perhaps even don a tie, and head back to the high school where I have served as an English teacher … More At the End of Summer…An Invitation to LIVE!
The boys upstairs await my final call of “Lights out!” I’m camping out with them in their room this week while my wife and two children are away. They’d much rather read until I come to bed for a few moments of reading myself before nodding off, book in hand. The days begin to take … More Meditations: Vespers
I am out of rhythm. Summer always greets me with its welcoming arms of rest and renewal, but in the name of rest and renewal, I neglect some of the basic rhythms of life. I am not rising early. I’m not going to bed early enough to rise early. There’s little to structure my days … More Meditations: Lauds
When we were children, storms tended to frighten us. I’m not sure when the switch happened, but for me, they inspire reverence. Over the past week, we’ve had our share of storms where I live. This took me back to a poem I wrote almost two years ago, birthed out of a similar storm-gazing experience. … More Stormy Cathedrals