::What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open.:: {Muriel Rukeyser} this isn’t a feel good holiday post. my religious scramblings are not all tied… Continue reading


somehow life has brought me to this empty hall I see pictures of times gone by mementos of long ago faces sharing a life who will witness these beautiful ones? who will witness… Continue reading

{the truth it burns}

~ the truth it burns blazing in my bones they don’t really see it see me see her and her and what really happened how can something so large remain so invisible? something… Continue reading


“I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland ~ pain swirling around me make it stop silence pierces the void what do… Continue reading

{glass house}

We constructed our own comfortable place to live apart from him yet spoke as if our lives were all about knowing him

The charade. The parade of lies, twisted truths, blindness, hollowness…

{too much}

See, the thing is, just because Christianity as a spiritual and social entity has traditonally acted as a kind of catch-all for vulnerable people, doesn’t mean Christianity as an institution and culture is… Continue reading

{long goodbyes}

i can’t tell you that long goodbyes ever find closure

i can’t speak of the lessons learned in darkness

i can’t say there has been no semblance of peace found in moments of respite

i can’t tell you i will ever comprehend the how or why

i can’t speak of who i am these days without turning circles

i can’t say all will like the person i am becoming

i can’t speak for anyone but myself

i can’t tell you i have arrived

i can’t say there aren’t countless more bends in the road coming up ahead

i can’t speak for the loves in my life

i can’t tell them enough they are my heart

i can’t speak my old words anymore

i can’t say all i used to say

{as the rain falls}

as the rain came down and landed i noticed the sounds

tickles of droplets hitting grass

pings of wetness plopping against tin

splatters against the wood

moving drops carried on the wind to hit the trees

depending on where the drops landed they sounded different

isn’t that the way grief is?

different for each of us

different for how it falls and where it lands


I need the age-old comfort, and I don’t want to turn to you I ache for assurance, and I don’t believe in you like I used to I long for light, and I… Continue reading

{Cup of Cold Water}

but then i am seen
someone finally looked my heart in the eye
compassion came forth
beauty turned their face towards mine
love still exists
softness of a soul undone