Sunday, August 24, 2014

Jim Foley

 I pray for the soul of Jim Foley that he may find a comfort in the presence of God, a love so assuaging and powerful and eternal that it eclipses and surpasses the unjust horror of his death. I pray this also for the souls of all those who have died unspeakable deaths.

Friday, August 22, 2014

What I Wouldn't Give

What I wouldn't give to return to the year 1989, when I was 20, to go back to a time when my horizons were open, my hopes undashed, my path not yet made and my basic freedoms still real.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

The Tragic Deaths of Americans Robin Williams and Michael Brown

Both deaths are tragedies that grieve me. Both deaths have been followed by inexcusable behavior, such as sadistic Twitter users taunting Williams' daughter with graphic forensic photos, and brutally defensive police responding to peaceful protests over Brown's death with full military armaments and tear gas.

When will this world ever become more just and less insane? When Jesus comes again.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Someone Complained about My Wearing a Cross

To that I have to say, I AM A CHRISTIAN, I was BAPTIZED Christian, I WILL DIE CHRISTIAN.

Yesterday I saw an Eagle

 I heard it first, making a high pitch cry that sounded like, " Ky--rie! Ky--rie!" When I looked up, there it was in all its majesty, soaring in a zigzag pattern down through the sky--from a cloud so high it seemed to touch the sun-- barely flapping its wings as it rode on the air. Eventually it flew towards a small patch of woods, then landed on the ground, perhaps to seize its prey.

A profound sight, a gift.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

My Mother Fixing My Wedding Dress, 2003

Early Morning by the Sea ( published in Decanto, 8/2014)

by Catharine Otto

I feel the spaces within the stillness, and listen…
Lingering in the air, are paired the sweet, salty dampness
Declaring to my delight that the sea is nearby,
And the languorous scent of the hotel’s French milled soap,
Feeling even softer than usual against my skin.
The oblique gleam of tile, the lustrous sheen of white bathed in sunlight,
The indescribable softness and openness of the sky’s keen blue
All above me and about me.

The spaces within the stillness….
The sublime shape of a seashell
With its pristine inner world of curves,
The covert chambers formed by its fluted spirals.
And the spaces formed by the folds and turns
Of the brain and the heart,
 Capturing the secret souls within all
So that they do not fly out---premature—
Dangerously unarmed!

The fractal patterns repeated in all our desires—
Leading back to this—
The wonder in the shape of a leaf,
A seashell;
A fossil;
A life yet to be.
Each reviving a wondering child in all of us.