Posted by: John | April 12, 2017

Win or Lose

Hen pecked and rooster bruised
No matter how we pick and choose
Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose.
We go thru life without clues.

Posted by: John | March 17, 2017

Sanctuary II

Can the silence of the sanctuary serve to shape
my soul to soar to greater heights?
Or will I sink to even lower levels in my life?
I’ll explore surrender rather than a fight.

Posted by: John | March 2, 2017

Special Navy

Did you know that Perdue – the chicken company – has its own navy?
Yep. Chicken ships.

Posted by: John | March 1, 2017

Soaring Prayer

I pray that you might catch
a blue sky thermal in your glider ride
of life that will lift you up
out of the doom and gloom of the ground
on which we all stand and carry you
to new heights amidst the puffy white clouds.

Posted by: Lisa | February 27, 2017


Round and round my mind
goes, perceiving and then
veering into darkness,
finding a hand-hold and
then slipping into voids
nested within each other.
Truth exists sure as light
exists; goes on forever
just as Love does, waiting
for no one to trust or
to feign belief. Here
my feet trace spirals
of green then red then white
promising flight thru dark
valleys of questions yielding
an occasional Aha! amid more
questions and persistent echoes
of solid footfalls. Listen.

Posted by: John | February 26, 2017


The silence of the sanctuary
is so overwhelming I’m left breathless.
Waiting for answers. Will there be any?
If not, then what?

Posted by: Lisa | February 10, 2017

Open Space

This poem was published in the Fall 2013 edition of WestWard Quarterly.


Open Space

Cruising city streets,
sudden awareness
of open space

On a corner

Once boarded-up
century-old home
now a flat
brown rectangle
dotted by white
and yellow triangles –
glittering in the sun –
of walls, paint

All that’s left

To remember
lives born, loved,
died within.

Stories once contained
– now fly free –
in this world or
the next.

Posted by: Lisa | January 16, 2017


She said:
If I can’t be the things I want to be,
I’m not sure I want to be.
Ah yes, a dilemma for many years now.
That ballerina dream faded
and nothing else really appeals.
Nothing. So the task is to keep ego quiet
and just do what God wants done —
stick around on this earth for as long
as God so ordains, though all seemed
finished years ago. There are other plans
unknown but no less real. Indeed more real:
Dedicate yourself to sharing Peace, Love,
and Light in small ways each day.

Posted by: John | January 13, 2017

Your Tale

I found you where you fell.
Your tale you tried to tell.
Did you come from heaven?
Were you heading straight to hell?

Posted by: Lisa | January 5, 2017


All sorts of random memories
come like brief snapshots from a movie.
Just a scene not the whole story.
Never any sound. Just something I see.
Never any intense emotions.
Without warning for a couple years
and I’m still not sure why.
Perhaps tiny pearls from meditation.

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