Existential LiturgiesOf Mice and Purity Culture
Once, sitting in my parent's kitchen, I watched a mouse drag itself across the floor. It was folded in half; a mouse trap scraped along behind it.
Existential LiturgiesHope
He mistook his dwindling daysFor THE end of daysAnd who could blame him?Death is a frightful mysteryMuch easier to face itIf all you leav...
Existential LiturgiesMiracles
On scarcity mindsets
Existential musings in a post-evangelical light
Existential LiturgiesOf Mice and Purity Culture
Once, sitting in my parent's kitchen, I watched a mouse drag itself across the floor. It was folded in half; a mouse trap scraped along behind it.
Existential LiturgiesHope
He mistook his dwindling daysFor THE end of daysAnd who could blame him?Death is a frightful mysteryMuch easier to face itIf all you leav...
Existential LiturgiesMiracles
On scarcity mindsets
Existential musings in a post-evangelical light
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Unearned, she looks at me like a God
I sigh, pick up a sweater
Left arm, right arm, torso, hood
Add it to the pile
My folding laundry--to her--is interpretive dance
She watches - mouth gaping, neck craned
As one looks at a monument
Pants this time
The movements to her are mesmerizing
Laundry is the boulder to my Sisyphus
An unending, relentless task I am doomed to repeat until wealth or old age release me
She witnesses the ancient ritual; steeped in magic and mystery
An art I have taken years to perfect
And
What if
When I look at stars
Neck craned
Mouth gaping
Witnessing an ancient universe; steeped in time and mystery
What if a weary warden guides the moon round again
A tired mother gently breathes on planets to coax them round the galaxy
What if the stars twinkle because a yawning custodian stokes their bright burning fires?
Endless tasks, shaped by the perceiver
Perhaps, then, all is gift and magic and mystery
Sisyphus: keeper of his own key
Unearned, she looks at me like a God
I sigh, pick up a sweater
Left arm, right arm, torso, hood
Add it to the pile
My folding laundry--to her--is interpretive dance
She watches - mouth gaping, neck craned
As one looks at a monument
Pants this time
The movements to her are mesmerizing
Laundry is the boulder to my Sisyphus
An unending, relentless task I am doomed to repeat until wealth or old age release me
She witnesses the ancient ritual; steeped in magic and mystery
An art I have taken years to perfect
And
What if
When I look at stars
Neck craned
Mouth gaping
Witnessing an ancient universe; steeped in time and mystery
What if a weary warden guides the moon round again
A tired mother gently breathes on planets to coax them round the galaxy
What if the stars twinkle because a yawning custodian stokes their bright burning fires?
Endless tasks, shaped by the perceiver
Perhaps, then, all is gift and magic and mystery
Sisyphus: keeper of his own key
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