This is my final poem from a stranger met at the Bown Crossing Library. Poetry for Strangers will continue, after a short break, in the new year. XO and happy holidays to you all, wonderful readers! Just at library closing time, several people came up to say hello. One was Nataraj, who looked interested in my…
Articles from December 2018
The word: Compassion
Gail shared with me her daily practices about how to begin and end her days with compassion, gratitude, and humility. The Stranger: Gail The Word: Compassion The poem I wrote: With your whole heart, dance. Let creature-love consume you. Make whole those with you. Look the injured in their eyes. The compassion you’ve saved up forever, for…
The word: Lava
Sandra and I talked about rocks and rock-hounds, those who see something in every rock. She gestured toward the landscape: “This was once a lake, those hills part of the shore. There’s lava up there.” The Stranger: Sandra The Word: Lava The poem I wrote: Like a boy unfurling into man or stone, this lava rock splits…