From Authors

In excelsis

Angels we have heard on high. But rarely do we see them. When we’re low and need the peace to help us muster a smile, it may take an angel or two. Seasons show us the cyclical nature of life. One year ago I was being prepped for surgery to remove a very large tumor…

The IV girl club

This morning I woke up in pain.  I had a headache, as usual, and pain in my upper back, which has been happening more often lately. Not long later, my gut cramped badly enough that I couldn’t carry on conversation with my husband, who was talking to me about limiting the kids’ time on the…

Glory, glory, glory, glorious!

It’s that time of the year—the holidays are upon us. Sometimes the reality of this season is the hustle and bustle of shuffling in and out of department stores and forcing smiles for pictures, when all we are really  looking for is the glorious. As the great Frank Loyd Wright said “Sometimes less is more.”…

Empathetic movement

  Move for me So I can remember what it feels like To be lighter than air and so___  Very sure of limb Move for me In ways my body remembers as if It were today When you hold gravity to task I am fearless once more  &  Free  Resist! These universal laws As ever long…

Life is long

I feel guilty a lot. It’s my go-to. Guilty if I take too much time for myself. Guilty when I don’t feel like picking up my kids for the zillionth time. Guilty when I’m tired. Guilty that I’m not doing more, more, more. Guilt can be good. It can mean regret and we learn. An…

Morning glories

A percolating coffee pot sounds a lot like a person dying of lung cancer trying to breathe. I made this analogy at age 8, sitting in my aunt Sally’s apartment in Springfield, Missouri, surrounded by depressed relatives. “What’s that bubbling sound? It sounds like Granny Anne.” I was just being honest. She died that night…

Winterclung

There’s an orange glow From that moment I held your secrets closeAnd now it’s skipping on the edges the of the waterCatching on the little waves and highlighting the shifting moods The grey of the winter evening is filling with charcoal and will grow blackBut for now the rain is breaking the surface of the lakeIt’s…

Hearth tenders

It’s 3:30 a.m. and I’ve been awake for the last hour. My mind feels restless and a little bored. I’m not anxious, and I don’t remember a dream. At 40 years old, I wonder if I’m waking due to age. But there was no heat or sweating or urgency to visit the toilet. I was…

Lofty

Beads of mist clung to the two columns of light that guided the car around each twist and turn of the graveled road. Her hands clutched the steering wheel as her eyes darted from side to side, trained from years of trying to spot deer out of her periphery while she cruised down Four-Mile Road…

Doing time

My son has a yellow plastic clock that I bought in a futile attempt to ready him for kindergarten. It has a face with big numbers and hands but no mechanism—you must use your fingers to mark the time, and once you do, you are already late. A second has passed. Now, two. A storyteller…

Slowingly

  Time races by Like a child Run amok   Splashing at puddles Wishing for luck   I anticipate Cells slowing As they will   Urgency and dread builds Then dissipates   I search for breath and breadth To fill me   With presence and peace   Not so pressingly Now   As I am…

And then

I keep waiting for inspiration to write on the theme “slow.” The only things that come to mind are clichés: slowing down in a sped-up world; staying present in an era of distractions; the art of doing nothing. None of this feels fresh. Frankly, slow is not sexy. The number one rule of writing is…

Just add water

The squeaky clunk of metal in rapid succession has become a routine part of my morning soundtrack. It is as if I am attempting CPR on the “Push for Signal” button, which metaphorically is not too far from the truth. I am trying to revive my morning by getting my kids to school on time…

The anguish of waiting

  I am, by nature, enormously impatient. I always stop the microwave with two seconds left. I just cannot wait for those two beats before devouring my warmed food. I often shoot off a text—or worse, an email—too early, not having the patience to give it a quick glance before pressing send. I cannot stand…

You Must Be This Tall to Ride

I wonder what it takes To ride the Tilt-o-Whirl from one inch below the line. A new set of boots? A fast fiver? A diversion? A boost so sly That a fluff of puffy hair Or solid boot heels Could mean the difference between Seeing the world And not being quite good enough Or are…

The case for inefficiency

A sigh escapes my lips as I bend over to stack the white ceramic plates in the cabinet. He’s doing it again. His comfortable warmth sidles up next to me, the soft plaid brushing my arm, as he leans in to set the matching bowls tidily in their place. Working together, the dishwasher is emptied…

The time we do have

“I know you’re busy.” My 81-year-old friend says this to me as I’m leaving his new apartment. He doesn’t drive anymore, so we moved him into town to be closer to church and the bakery and the bank. Places he can walk. Places where everyone knows his name and he theirs. His second day in…

The root of the problem

It happens here every spring. As leaves break bud and flowers bloom, people are struck with inspiration to plant fruit trees. Summer seems so close at hand, and visions of sun-warmed peaches replace sugarplums dancing in their heads. Local gardening forums are filled with requests for advice on what varieties of cherry do best here…