Sunday, May 29, 2011

Scenes from a Retreat

kneel.
stretch.
breathe.
cry.
repeat.
the fire
releases
the tears
the wood
keeps held
inside
herself.
kneel.
stretch.
breathe.
cry.
repeat.
the tears
are the only way
she knows
god
is still
here.


Dead tree and sky, on the path to my hermitage.

The tears she holds inside herself.

Dusk outside my west window.

Playful feet, warm sand.

Sunday morning snowstorm.

Thirsty, playful mule deer.


Last evening sunset.

5 comments:

  1. So beautiful, both the poem and the pictures. So very glad you got this time to decompress and to find God in the midst of the release-of-grief. I need me one of those retreats soon...

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  2. I felt like I got a tiny little one minute retreat just reading your post.

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  3. Fabulous pics, toward. What a place for retreat, sand and snow in the same breath!

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  4. What a ridiculous typo I made!
    Obviously "toward" is meant to be towanda ... blame the silly keyboard on my iPod?

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  5. I'm so glad you were able to retreat and so grateful I get to be friends with such a gifted poet/writer!

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