Look Up Psalm 19

How often I forget.

Eyes, razor-like, look on,

Gaze along the horizon,

While stars spindle down

Into my soul like a midnight

Dream, scraping the chill

Off my bones, off my bones.


A local poet named the dark-

Wide-skyscape beautiful; love.

I’m still looking around at

The fading shadows of

Deep evening and shallow morning.

The moon glow lifts my eyes

Off the ground, off the ground.


My cricked neck wearies,

So I settle in the low,

Lay in the dimple of the

Long grasses; their back and

Forth in the breeze frame

The heavens declarations

Off the heights, off the heights.

Yellow or Gold, the gift of color gives.

Right below is the link to Claudia Schoenfeld’s Poem




July Harvest









Yellow has been a theme of late which began with an iphone picture of a freshly cut hay field. Then thoughts of Vincent Van Gogh. Then a friend sent me a picture of his haystacks…Thanks Erin. Then a friend wrote a poem…Thanks Claudia. Then a friend posted Eve Cassidy’s Youtube cover of Sting’s Fields of Gold…Thanks Glynn. Then, then, then…no particular pontification on the color…I will leave you to your thoughts. The video series of Van Gogh was shared with me from Claudia as well. Very interesting.

I pray your day is yellow gold!



Beauty Beyond Words, and Yet I Want Them So Badly.

Vincent, come and tell me what to say.


I am afraid.

The beauty startled me

so I came back to capture it.

Bring your brush-sickle

and lop off that bale like an ear.


Forgive me for projecting on you.


It’s not words, but my words

that lie like straw gleanings

through the stubble.


I thought of you first

to show me how stroke texture

and vibrancy with syllables.


You were self inflicted,

but your brush with faith

incited you to a beauty beyond

and you welcomed me

to whisper by your left lobe

“I see it too.”


Oil my word economy

and layer it in gobs

as age and color magnify.


Image taken from my iPhone.


This is a print of Vincent’s