The We Factor

wpid-20140207_144630.jpgThey sit
A James Beard quote
Captured in black-tie fancy
Letters dance
Whirling in a  circle on a wooden
Across from her
She sips her soup as I sip mine
Gnawing the marrow off the bone
Of shared words
Ravenous for more
Ingesting life through the straw of
Words carry a life-blood
And we are carnivores for more
Seek sacred echoes
Affirm me
Confirm my call
Hear what is
Burrowed deep
Mine with me
Sort with me
Dream with me
Stop and stare awhile with me

I was formed
For fellowship

Propped in a corner

Quiet attends a soul
Peers out of solitude
Peels back layers
Blood and flesh
To the core

They are
Nestled in between
Swirling words
Bubbled up above
The din
Of a crowded room
Filled with pairs
And groups of
Two’s and ten’s
We’s breaking bread

Empty she came
Full she departs

Birthed into a world
Cravers of community
Fellowship feeds
The sisterhood hole
Formed for filling
By another

Meant to live as we’s
Alone and lonely, but for a time
The season of communion is ripe
Ready for the longing
Called into
This time

To live as one
In him
Holy exponential
Multiplier of all

Noticing – A Journey Down The Road Of Fully Seeing


Join me in October as I participate in the 31 Days Series withThe Nester at The Nester dot com. Last year at this time I was writing daily (well almost) on words. Were you here for the series, 31 Days, A Series of Words. I may have switched it up a bit and called it 31 Days of Wonderful Words. Either way it was challenging as a writer.  It was my first year joining The Nester and other bloggers for this writing link up and challenge. And now I am designing and planning year  TWO.

In  the next few days you will hear a little more about what I have in mind. But I want to hear from YOU also. Leave a note in the comment section or send me a note on Facebook or Twitter if there is something you’d like to see me cover in a post during the 31 day journey.

But mostly I am just going with a spontaneous writing project, sharing as God reveals beauty and wonder to me. Well as spontaneous as one can be writing for thirty-one consecutive days.

I hope to mix it up quite a bit. And I promise you it is my desire to design a series which will never be boring.

 You are invited to come along on this journey.

31 days of notiing

Lasso The Sky, The Land, The Sea


Lasso The Sky


There have lived and breathed  Da Vinci and Galileo
Have viewed the sky, beheld the world, drawing mystery from thin air
Discovering wonder, pulling at the thread,
Unraveling infinite
Cousteau dove deep, strapped on oxygen rising up again
Popping through the curtain
Where air and sea meet
Proclaiming what was deep
Under the sea

And there lives a girl
Unknown to billions
Known only by a few
Who dreams only of lassoing the sky
By night
And the land by day
Roping all beauty and pulling it in
Drawing a noose around it all
With ampersands
She loves the and

It will take all her words
Each one she knows
And then some more
To capture all the loose and lovely
Wrangle it into place
With her pen
On a page
Captured for all time
In the lines
Of poetry

Thoreau knew too
Of what runs wildly through her mind
The thought of heaven over head and under feet
He said it lovely
Plain poetic
All the same

And she, the one whose heart aches
Burns maybe with mad desire
To scribe it down
Tangled up in words that hang around awhile
This late longing
Born from who knows where
To paint the beauty with her words

Will go on digging deep
Writing out her art
In broken, wounded

To the unknown one who has a deep and curious desire
To lay their eyes upon the page of words which tell

She’ll pen it down
Glued, stuck together by copious amount
Of ands.

So she will dream and play
And wrestle
Day by day with an imaginary pen
The noisy one that’s shaped in tiny squares
From A to Z with symbols
Her much beloved and

The sky, the land, the sea
All beauty
Gently showing it
Struggling not to tell
In busted prose
And broken phrase
In the girl’s own
Winsome style
Wordy way
Never hoping to be Wordsworth or Thoreau
Oliver or Collins
Or even Tretheway

Just an obscure writer
Who found some joy
Playing with her beloved

Poetry. Ah, she asks at the end.
Do you believe all of this?

The mystery of poetry.



Linking my words with Laura Boggess

A Poet’s Prayer

wpid-IMG_20130430_184203.jpgSome of those songwriters
Man they slay me
Lassoing words up into something that goes round for eternity on repeat in your soul
Speaking words of wisdom
About world turning
And missing Mayberry, sitting on the front porch

When will the noteless poet penetrate words
Through the film of hurting humanity
Words of George asking Jane to stop this crazy thing
They too, plant into the culture deep roots of permanency.

Some of those songwriters
Man they nail it
With someone left the cake out in the rain
We live a lifetime repeating nonsense

Or remembering bridges over troubled waters
And never seeing friendship the same way again
Can a poet reign in a heart and cup it toward glory
Toward  all He is and made and does and loves

Some of those songwriters
Man they knock it out of the park
Taking words and sending them out onto the dance floor partnered with notes
To waltz and shag and boogey with words that we
Remember, memories like the corners of my mind

Can a noteless word dance in the silence, buoy
Grab hold of  the hopeless and the beauty seeker
The longing one, the lonely one, the one following after
The heart of God.

Man those guys from Nashville, they really crush it
Dice and slice words on a blank page pair them with music
And give us beauty we remember forever
Can a poet in 2103 show His glory Hallelujah in the quiet

In the quiet of a place
When the music stops
Can the words alone
Pull back the lids of a complacent heart

And sing a song of noteless beauty

And whisper amazing grace, how sweet the sound.

Lord, give me words that soar and dance on the edges of the heavenlies
Or send me packing
Maybe to Nashville