All posts tagged: Knowing

Disarmament (Part 5) (of 5)

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Christ / Creative / Fiction

This is the fifth and final chapter of this short foray into fiction.  Here is a link to the first for those who may wish to start at the beginning.  We’ll return to our normally scheduled programming shortly, which as you may well have surmised, means I have no idea what comes next.  Thank you so much for reading… * * * * * Thinking there was a distinction between what was Love and what […]

Disarmament (Part 4)

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Christ / Creative / Fiction

This is Part 4 of 5.  One more to go…  Part 1 is here, if you wish to start at the beginning. * * * * * He must have gone for help, the little junco, because when I awoke there were two of them.  One on my side of the window, inspecting the sill– making those erratic steps that come in packs of four or five– and the other one outside, moving only its […]

Disarmament (Part 2)

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Christ / Creative / Fiction

This post is part of a short fictional series.  It comes with a brief apology about the length.  I’m aiming to keep each segment under a thousand words, but, well… yeah…  The beginning is here. * * * * * Click. They were gone. The sound seemed to shrivel and disappear beneath the threshold, pulling every other sound with it.  There was nothing left but my breathing, and the blank-faced stare of the walls.  For a moment, […]

Disarmament (Part 1 of the Rest)

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Christ / Fiction

Well, I couldn’t squish this into a single post…  I promise it won’t be too many.  Welcome to my short foray into serial fiction… * * * * * It was just a small apartment.  I don’t know what I had really expected, but not something so patently vacant.  It would end here?  There was a dinged up coffee table, a faded olive sofa that didn’t match the carpet, a landslide of unsorted mail on […]

The Moon Is On Fire

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Christ

The place itself, the physical structure, was  built to produce a return.  It’s all right angles and flashing from a tube, inoperable windows, and two-tone exterior panels of artificial masonry.  But it’s where we do it.  Each morning we drive in from all points of the compass to the center, gathering together as befits us, to produce work.  That’s the key, really.  To produce work.  To offer something up.  The flimsy walls don’t matter.  The […]

Out in the Open

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Christ / Poetry

This writing has undone me, peeled away my knowing and my nonsense, and led me way out way out from the edge to where there are no shadows, to where the clear light is visible in every direction, to where the wind is always scented by the horizon– in hues of timber and sunlight, in copal, cedar, and jasmine. Some days flowers fall from the sky, but no matter. What would it matter? I remember […]

Freshly Cut Light

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Poetry

I was a diamond on the ride in today, a precisely cut sentience whisking across the frozen tar, a conscious particle accepting every direction, every possibility, into its center. Breathing. Zooming. Flooding the radio silence with unformed memories. Remembering forty years from now. Embracing the horizon’s glow. Letting that fire reflect inside of me from every angle before being released. Calling every misgiving home from the wild. Setting out food. Becoming the rookery while it’s […]

Clouds, Shaken

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Poetry

The distance, receding. The sky so full of feathers, it’s obvious the gods tore open the clouds, shook them out over the land, and tossed their empty skins in a pile by the river. We’re back in the Dreamtime. The cold has come alive, the sky become an arctic fire, her sparks fluttering in a swirling dizzy of ballerina embers, and the hawk’s vision is still again, flooding my skull, impaling my every thought, studying my […]

An Incurable Obstinance

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Christ / Poetry

When Jesus was young they thought he had a learning disability. At the very least, they reconciled themselves to the fact that the boy possessed an incurable obstinance. At the dinner table, for instance, despite the most pressing tutelage, he refused to concede that an apple and a pear were innately different, choosing instead to refer to them both giddily as flowers. His mother and his father were also not permitted to enjoy the rights and privileges of […]

The Green Light

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Poetry

I was weaving my way through the desert, trailing just behind them, warmed by their presence, soaking in their words– a particle being carried across the sea by a raft of delicious intelligence. I came into a violent world, the first said. I came into a world without a future– a world on the brink, a world on fire, a world outflanked by death… God “the Father” was this idea I came up with. Alone […]