From Rob Hardies, my pastor at All Souls Church, Unitarian comes this: Though the dry leaves still cling to the oak tree's branches outside my study w…
One Today, by Richard Blanco One sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores, peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces of the Great Lakes, sprea…
The Real Work by Wendell Berry It may be that when we no longer know what to do we have come to our real work, and that when we no longer know which w…
The Vacation by Wendell Berry Once there was a man who filmed his vacation. He went flying down the river in his boat with his video camera to his eye…
Aristotle BY BILLY COLLINS This is the beginning. Almost anything can happen. This is where you find the creation of light, a fish wriggling onto land…
We are here for what amounts to a few hours, a day at most. We feel around making sense of the terrain, our own new limbs, Bumping up against a herd o…
My brother Ted recently read this poem to our 85 year old mother and he reported that "when I was done she had tears in her eyes." I can see why. Abso…
This poem was posted by Andrew Sullivan, honoring the 2 slain photojournalists in Libya. For me, I think it also applies to the people of AL and the s…
I wrote this poem for Sherry when she turned 50. It was hard to find photos of her without me in them. She had my back. My world, the world, is a bett…
-by Mary Oliver Every year we have been witness to it: how the world descends into a rich mash, in order that it may resume. And therefore who would c…
