Spring is the great unfurling of everything that had to curl up to survive the bitter winter.
I caught every stone you threw at me, and built myself a fortress. How safe I feel, enclosed, by these strong walls. How I wish, sometimes, that they weren't quite so high.
Can you hear me whisper above the white noise of endless therapies and appointments with clever people, who know how to fix that, which is (apparently) broken within you? Hear me, sweet boy of mine: "You are not broken. You are a sweet perfection that the world could never truly appreciate. Never in a year... Continue Reading →
I looked across the room and there you were. Even then I saw that you were broken in the same places that I was. For a brief moment it gave me hope that I was not alone. Our scars linked hands that day. How beautiful it has been with you at my side.
Dear Fellow Writer, Can you not see just how exquisite the story within you is? It has been given to you because nobody else can tell it exactly the way that you can. Every single experience you have been through, from the deep despair that nearly broke your spirit, to the rapturous that carried you... Continue Reading →
The old man reached up with feeble hands. His unseeing eyes briefly lit up. A weak smile broke on his face, "You've come," he breathed, as his life finally escaped the diseased chains that had held him captive. "It happens," the nurse gently comforted the old man's inconsolable wife, "chemicals in the dying brain sometimes... Continue Reading →
Her legs, muscles atrophied, were useless by day, but when she stepped over the threshold of sleep; pushing the veil between worlds aside, she ran through the meadow of sweet grass until the moon bade farewell. Her withered legs wet with dew in the morning.
There are mornings I wake up tired. When the busyness of life has consumed me even in my dreams. I come to you quietly with exhausted heart and give you my very last coins. An offering, of little worth. There are many ways in which to spend the last I have to give. But,... Continue Reading →
Darkness was falling. The shadows alive with evil. Her strength failing, she had been struggling to free herself for hours. Abandoned by the others, she had given up too. But then scarred hands found her, the lost one, and carried her home. Luke 15:3-7
She named you Jabez. When wave after wave of the searing heat that had ripped through her belly and skin, had finally cooled and she, exhausted, could finally hold you in her arms, she looked at you and said...