*A poem inspired by my morning run and Psalm 19* It happened this morning. After a run. Wet and fussy. Just out of breath—winded but not heaving. Neighborhood lit with grey glow— bright enough to be day, dim enough to... Continue Reading →
No longer am I a dignified servant, offering my hand for the plow with all the nobility in the world. No, rather, I can hardly keep my head up—I’m a trembling child or a starving peasant, entreating with shaky hands and teary eyes.