December 21, 2015

I place my brain on the dewy grass where it lies, naked pink and shivering like a newborn sparrow crying for comfort. But there is no comfort. Only chilly death comes. And then, devoured by a stray dog. In time, after my mind breaks down it will flow into dog blood and fuel howls. Then, as dog shit my mind will feed dandelions. Oh, to be dandelion fluff carried on a summer night’s breeze is my mind’s highest ambition. Read more

December 18, 2015

The wind blows angry In the lonely places Where it is safe to rage. Far from the city. I hear her wailing. And tremble. For I wear her wrath A threadbare cloak. The evangelists say, the Breath of God Is like a gentle Dove. But to me, she’s a raven, consuming the dead. Or a kestrel, seizing little living things in her talons And eating them whole. For the wind blows angry. Keening in the night. Giving voice to all… Read more

December 15, 2015

In deep morning still dark and cool I place my hand on my anchor tree. My fragile skin rubs the rough bark while my soul trickles from skin to wood and slides down into the roots where it kisses the soil. I am planted there with that anchor tree; It stands in my back yard, It stood before there was a back yard. It remembers, so I remember. We share mysteries from beneath the surface, Under the damp grass. And… Read more

December 14, 2015

I am the wise squirrel who climbs out of the underworld and dances up the trunk of the Tree of Life. Sitting in the high branches, I sway in the wind as leaves clatter, Reflecting the rising red sun. I hear Divine rumors on the breeze, and carry them down to the underworld returning with the longings of the dead. I am the apprentice of the moon-raven who teaches me to look sideways at the world to laugh in moments… Read more

December 13, 2015

An old juniper tree guards the gate to the underworld. Jagged and dry, he dies. But new branches reach through the cracks. Living and dead, he stands between worlds. The gate to the underworld is between two great ponderosa pines. For only their thick puzzle-bark can withstand the flames. All who come to Old Juniper forget whether they are the living, decending or the dead, ascending. Which way is in or out? Only Old Juniper knows, and he never tells. Read more

December 12, 2015

The moon is a raven when she sleeps she carries the night on her wings gathering up daydreams as she flaps overhead Never trust a raven to tell you the truth but she will always guide you to Truth she eats the dead bits of your daydreams and leaves the living bits to haunt your waking and your sleeping The raven is the moon when she awakes she glimmers faint sun into night dropping seeds of dreams down translucent beams… Read more

July 23, 2014

This article was written accidentally. After one too many judgmental comments about homeless persons persons experiencing homelessness, I found my fingers fueled with rage. As I wrote, I quickly realized that what was pouring out of me was too long for Facebook. Two hours later, the following article was finished. It is my best attempt at disarming the condescending and judgmental attitudes about people experiencing homelessness that pervade this nation. I doubt the research and conclusions I reach will change… Read more

February 12, 2014

I am frustrated with the widespread mental habit of equating being “extreme” with rigidity or fundamentalism. Being “extreme” simply denotes having a view that is towards the ends of a bell curve. Many current mainstream ideas were once extreme. And many mainstream ideas today will become, at some point, extreme. The popularity of an idea isn’t an indication of its rightness. Abolitionism, for example, was once an extreme view. In the early centuries of the American institution of slavery, the… Read more

December 10, 2013

When I was 17 years old, I became the primary caregiver for my dying mother. She had emphysema. Eventually a lung collapsed and she was hospitalized. Only then did she quit smoking. After school and on weekends, I’d cook meals. I also did the grocery shopping and tried to clean (my mom was a mild hoarder, so my attempts at cleaning usually failed). Every once in a while, we’d get the call that there was a potential donor match for… Read more

August 1, 2013

Often, when talking to someone about the radical implications of the way of Jesus, my conversation partner will say something to the effect of “Jesus said ‘Love thy neighbor’ but he also was very careful not to break the law.” In other words: “Yes, I’d love to show hospitality to an undocumented person, but they are here illegally” or “Yes, I’d love to protest at the bank the same way Jesus cleansed the temple, but it is against the law.”… Read more




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