Join me at GraceTable. I saved a seat for you at the table.
When I was a small child, my mother made certain I called my godmother to thank her for the gifts she gave me. Aunt Francis always gave me a piece of my silver pattern, her generous gifts a bit lost on me at the time. My stomach tightened up like a rubber band ball as I picked up the phone to call her each and every July, after the birthday gift arrived. I stalled and delayed, until Mother prompted me one final time to make that call.
Aunt Francis had a severe speech impediment. It manifested itself with long periods of silence between words. (Join me at GraceTable for the rest of my post.)
Every shadow punctuates
Dots the landscape of now
With littered limbs of memory
Brought down in the cleansing
Bold strokes of every shade of grey
Written under the swirls of then and right here
Blink, they move
Sub-plot and backstory
Read from back to front
And between all lines
Hieroglyphics and dead languages
Signing with fingers from the sun’s burning
Written in plain sight
The story requires an interpreter
My eyes behold the pages
Written for today
Thank you for reading here and at Gracetable.org. I have a post up there and I would be honored and humbled if you would join me there. Do you know this community? Gracetable? It is a favorite place on the internet. See you at Gracetable where I am happily a contributing writer.
One of my favorite places on the internet is Gracetable.org where I am honored to be a contributing writer. I am privileged to be one of several writers share this writing space and community.
If you know my writing home to be “poetry and prose through a lens of grace” there is a little piece of prose there. Today. One I chiseled out from the hard stone places of my heart. I know, there has been poetry only here for a good long while. Follow me to Gracetable where I am wrestling with the idea of practicing spontaneous hospitality. What an honor to have you there. (Click here to go there. See you at Grace Table.) Spoiler alert. I think you may like it there as much as I do.
I did not need to offer a physical place at my table, an elaborate meal, or a cleverly designed invitation. I was invited to give the gift of my time. The gift of myself.
Another of my favorite writing homes is my own tiny letter, “A Quiet Place For Words.” Why? Because it is so quiet, off the beaten path and interactive. The format is my favorite, a letter from me to you, written every few weeks to subscribers. Well a favorite, along with my beloved poetry.
What joy to interact with subscribers. The newsletter is going out today. Have you signed up. Come pull up a seat. (Click here to subscribe there). Of course it is free.
Thank you for reading. Always.
peace and grace,