I do not know, I know. My brain and heart are being stretched as I listen to conversations around me. Social media, dinner table, coffee shops, gatherings, it appears we are attempting to land something, to nail it down, agree on revised societal ground rules for a new way forward that rights all the wrongs of the past.

Wife of 1 and Mom to 5. Writing about my journey thru life, motherhood and the pursuit of the afternoon nap. We left the pastors conference on Thursday with one of the pastors and we went with him to his field. To the field of responsibility he had with his church. We ended up the side of a hill. The Scripture says that you are fearfully and wonderfully made.

And the land had rest from war. He kills all the weeds in my garden,. In the midday sun, he. My perfect weeds I spent so long cultivating,. Now the name of Hebron formerly was Kiriath-arba. Arba was the greatest man among the Anakim. And the land had rest from war,. My gardener has turned into a terrorist, and. My weeds are no longer safe. Said the Joker to the Thief.

Plant me a garden, love. As beautiful as it is useful. Cabbage next to my appendix. A throat full of motherwort and roses. Take the bowl of my pelvis. Wide and empty as a mother. Spilling ivy over my iliac crests. You will be the tender. This secret blooming at your hands. Braid the vines in my tangled hair. As you promise me your book. And let your hands find earth.

Trying to live a humble life making humble marks. Image from the brilliant Hugo Jones. All work on this website is original, and unless otherwise stated, authored by Luke Otley. All content is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3. Create a website or blog at WordPress.

Telling tales from around the world. The old Kent Theatre on East 167th St in the Bronx.

With the weight of water. Like a pearl of great price. Dylanw is a Celtic god of the sea. For more responses to the image. And if I close my eyes and rest.

Writing stories about nature to create empathy. Having read an article in The Guardian by Andrew Simms I have finally found inspiration and the beginnings of a story which I wanted to write about the diversity of living things around Navasola.

Christmas Song, Poetry Mash-up, Gleefully Snow-Bound. The home where Snow-Bound takes place is today preserved and open to the public as the John Greenleaf Whittier Homestead. Again, I am returning to an older post from Christmas past today, with a few editing adjustments. I still love this song, and I want to go snuggle now with Brian while we read this poem.