Praying with Fringes 10/09/2015 – where the final falling off is slow, a slow and radiant happening

In Heaven It Is Always Autumn Elizabeth Spires In heaven it is always autumn. The leaves are always near to falling there but never fall, and pairs of souls out walking heaven's paths no longer feel the weight of years upon them. Safe in heaven's calm, they take each other's arm, the light shining through … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 10/09/2015 – where the final falling off is slow, a slow and radiant happening

Praying with Fringes 10/07/2015 – the grass glitters greenly, freshened by last week’s rain

Leaf Light Barbara Crooker Leaf by leaf, the trees let down their gold; everything returns to dirt: stem, bark, twig. The corn stalks have dried to papery whispers, speak a new language in the wind’s harsh breath. It’s October, when leaf means loss, and bird means go. Today, the grass glitters greenly, freshened by last … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 10/07/2015 – the grass glitters greenly, freshened by last week’s rain

Praying with Fringes 11/18/2013 – Stopping Along the Way

Stopping along the Way David Wagoner Heading south toward campus, my car stops suddenly, abruptly, almost on its own. My right foot has found the brake pedal before my eyes can admire a very young possum strolling across our right of way at his personal intersection of human cross-purposes, some of whose breaks are squeaking … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 11/18/2013 – Stopping Along the Way

Praying with Fringes 11/11/2013: Sometimes I am startled out of myself

Sometimes, I Am Startled Out of Myself, Barbara Crooker like this morning, when the wild geese came squawking, flapping their rusty hinges, and something about their trek across the sky made me think about my life, the places of brokenness, the places of sorrow, the places where grief has strung me out to dry. And … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 11/11/2013: Sometimes I am startled out of myself