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Super Bowl (and a lot more) is In the Air

  Helicopters above my condo woke me up this morning. The Super Bowl is in town changing the way the city and I both operate. Yesterday, my twenty minute drive to the hairdresser was 45 minutes long. Stopped at a light I saw thirty or forty Seahawk fans cross the street. My attention was on one Seahawk fan with this blue 12 t-shirt on signifying he is a fan;  the 12th ingredient to the team’s success. Brown and grey speckled hair, slight belly pouch, surrounded by guy friends; he was carrying a blue and clear plastic purse. A man-bag. No longer metrosexual. Now, practical. I giggled. Once my body rolled from the bed and my feet hit the tiled floor, along with this memory, I hear John 3:16 in my head, “for God so love the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whomever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Taken literally, this passage is saying God loves me so much he murdered his son so...

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The Sacraments by Francis of Assisi (Poem)

  The Sacraments I once spoke to my friend, an old squirrel, about the Sacraments — he got so excited. and ran into a hallow in his tree and came back holding some acorns, an owl feather, and a ribbon he found. And I just smiled and said, “Yes dear, you understand: Everything imparts His grace.     Poem taken from Love Poems from God; Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West Daniel Ladinsky Poem attributed to St. Francis of...

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For Just a Moment

  I returned to the Pacific Northwest for a brief moment earlier this month. Driving on roads covered in a blanket of leaves, windshield wipers batting the rain off the glass, pre-mature Christmas music playing louder than my thoughts, I pulled to the side of the road wanting time to stand still. Keenly aware that Life is so much bigger than my wanting; I grabbed my journal and pen and wrote about my desire for time to stand still for a moment. Craving the temporary to change places with the Eternal, knowing that it can’t and won’t. Desperately wanting for the people I love to remain beloved, and forms to not shift. I knew this could not and will not happen, and yet, I was aware of the deep desire within me to own the beautiful familiar … for even just a moment.  This Moment Life is now faster than me. I want to possess the land I know will outlive me. Today it’s not enough to stand witness to its beauty and appreciate it. I want...

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Poetry in My In-Box

    On the phone with a friend yesterday, we spoke about the impending birth of my grand daughter. “How will I know if she is close to her arrival?”  I inquired. “When your daughter begins nesting and preparing for her arrival, you will know.  Washing the baby’s clothes is a clue,” says my buddy. If someone were to ask me a clue for when their Soul was preparing to open, I would say, “You become quiet and still.  You see your life from a space of animated energy.  You become a poetry magnet.  You will consuming it or write it like your life depends upon it.  Maybe both.  Poetry pulls the Soul forward, or the Soul pulls it.” Ivan, of Poetry Chikhana knows this.  Several times per week he compiles thoughtful poems, a thought for the day, and his insight into the poem.  This week’s poem is deee-lish. www.Poetry-Chikhana.com Last night, as I was sleeping By Antonio Machado (1875 – 1939) English version by Robert Bly Last night,...

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