“Unforced rhythms” says the version we’re allowed to accept now That the author is dead and we found out That his heretical words didn’t do any harm But undid quite a lot—brought forward the Love that book meant —for some of us Others hope he rots in hell Why do we work so hard to protect what we make up? Was Jesus just another cult leader? Setting up another thing to keep alive, whatever the cost —blood and self-abandonment the first in line? Revolutions like the ones we need are not won with war Or euphoria Or right doctrine Or ritual They revolve around the solution. A re-love-elution Bathing in…
How Bonus Fries and Beagles Bring Me Home
I'm learning to claim my inheritance: a legacy of faith I knew before I un-knew it. I'm learning that I can't help but see the darkness, the broken pieces of what could be, but I don't have to see *only* that.
I wrote this on the darkest day of the year. Because if this season is “about” anything, it’s about that.
What Mary Knew
"Mary, Did You Know?" keeps playing on the radio.