Originally posted on O at the Edges:
  ? Firewood For two years the oak loomed, leafless. We had aged together, but somehow I survived the drought and ice storms, the regret and wilt, the explosions within, and it did not. I do not know the rituals of trees, how they mourn a passing, or…


The joy of the Lord is my strength. – Nehemiah 8:10 So there’s Nehemiah, ringside at the Ultimate Fighting Championships. Or is that him at the Rumble in the Jungle, as the ‘Ali, Bomaye!’ chant starts up? Is that him swaggering behind Bruce Lee? What is the appearance of this strength? What is the joy…

Ferocious In the Service of Love

“the heart is our lens for seeing” Raffi Cavoukian In this time of rising tides in this time of shattering in this shorn hair time, where darkness pools; let the blessed black of holy night where mystery holds sway by right again become a resting place, guarded by those who walk ferocious in the service of love….