• Life,  Love,  Marriage,  Self Healing

    Developing Brains and Love Stories

    I got married in a discount gown with a low back and my older male friend said, “I though you were a good girl” when he saw the photos. I thought I was, too. Everybody told us we were children. Which is true, though not strictly speaking. We could vote and go to war, but not drink or rent a car. I suppose that says something about what the powerful think of us, but that is not my point here. My point is that neither of us had fully formed prefrontal cortexes which one needs to make long term decisions. But the more ancient, rudimentary parts of our brains—the parts…

  • God,  Life,  Love,  Theology

    Grabbing, Eating, Dying

    It would have been me anyway. If we made it this far in the garden, and no one had eaten the fruit. I’d be the one to walk up to that tree. Knowledge of Good and Evil would mean nothing, and I’d want to know why. I rose my hand to ask things I wasn’t supposed to ask from an early age, I might as well have grabbed some fruit while it was up there in the air. Because the snake asked what was there already… what did God say and what did it mean? And I wonder if Adam heard it, too. Maybe even first. But his fidelity to Order,…

  • mother holding her baby
    Love,  Motherhood,  Poems,  Poetry

    Cave

    Once I was a cave for you Strong walls and a deep hearth Warm and safe and home My skinny arms sheltered – Not too thin for you, Tiny little thing, sprawled or curled I was a whole landscape You grew as you do when you Have a home to grow out of It is good and right and true But I feel I am small again Too small for you To be enveloped like you ought to be When the world is too un-cavey I wonder if it is enough That once I was a shelter – It seems to be when you cling And I can’t surround you…

  • God,  Life,  Love,  Motherhood,  Poems,  Poetry

    Just to Touch the Ocean

    I sit with old mothers, watching the tide They curl fatherless children in their hips And watch the blurred horizon for ships Which left too long ago to remember Or for monsters or an angry wind They call their kids back from the dark I sit with my mother, all smile and tan At the beach where she felt most herself Where she played and collected her shells The crashing and churning don’t scare her Every bit of it named, can’t you tell? All known by a God who is light They run from the lines of white foam And they scream while they laugh Grab fistfuls of sand to…