Dec 31, 2016


The air is hot here, even when the wind blows. Every afternoon the wind picks up. It comes sweeping across the valley from the distant mountains – ancient rock faces on the horizon. The wind in the trees sounds almost like the ocean. It is strong and steady as distant crashing waves. By 10 o’clock in the morning the sun is baking. Shade and water are the only relief, along with insides of the old sandstone cottages built hundreds of years ago for farm laborers. If you keep all the doors and windows closed the air inside feels almost as cool as water.

There is a dam at the top of the village that looks out over the mountains. The water is pretty low thanks to the relentless sun, but it is still a lovely relief from the heat. Swimming in fresh mountain water feels to me like childhood. It feels like something wild and free, like something cleansing and wholesome and pure. Who knows what is actually in that water, but the effect of it – of being immersed in water brought to earth by God while overlooking His great land – is inspiring. It reminds me of swimming as a child in the rivers of North Carolina or getting swept along by waves in the Gulf of Mexico.

Dec 25, 2016


It is Christmas.
There is nothing to do here but listen
To the birds, my thoughts,
Hot air through tall trees,
Your breath, heartbeat, the rise and fall of your chest.

I can feel you sometimes
In my gut.
Will this fear ever untangle?
Will I ever be free to love you as I did once,

Can I be awake and in love at the same time?

I can't say. 
For now I just have to feel the quiet pain. 
A memory, like a dull knife.

Dec 24, 2016

It will take time, if it comes at all.
Love in the face of hurt and betrayal -
There is no silver bullet.
He is real and will always be light
And dark together (like you).
You may have to leave;
The dark may get the better of him.
But for now it is summer;
The hot sun is shining in Mcgregor,
He is asleep in bed
And for all you know, he loves you.
And for all you know, he is real.