I stopped and listened to the silence, heard the silence, the noisy silence

I was watching a gothic tableau play out from the corner of a hospital room. A pale girl lay on the bed below. Dark hair on white pillows. White sheets between her legs stained with blood. I felt compassion for the pale girl and the three people bending over her…

I never knew your name. I don’t need to know it to remember, your wild heart branded my soul. The first time I saw you, my family and nine other souls working on the construction of a large water catchment project in Kenya were riding in an old armored van…

I put a pomegranate in his hands. His hands once strong and brown, long fingered, now rested empty of life. Closed. Wrapped like torn paper around the red plumpness of the fruit. I could feel the seeds resting like jewels beneath the thickness of the pomegranate’s rind. Thirteen pink paper…

One hot, late summer afternoon, three children playing down by the river thought they saw some frayed, sun-bleached cloth caught in the low hanging branches of an old tree. …

night, silent, breathing the sound of light touching earth kissing her sweetly silence caressing silence bringing forth its sound of love

the lucky country blackened, burned, devastated yet, in blackened soil radiant life reaches, blooms and with hope will thrive again

Grace, a gentle rain falling quietly, softly stills my broken heart

A Haiku