meanwhile, back at the reservation…
The World Is in Pencil
—not pen.
It’s got
that same silken dust about it,
doesn’t it,
that same sense
of having been roughed
onto paper
even as it was planned.
It had to be a labor of love.
It must’ve taken its author
some time, some shove.
I’ll bet it felt good in the hand—
the o
of the ocean,
and the and
of the land.
✏️
The World Is in Pencil by Todd Boss
Easter God,
roll away the stone
from the tomb of my heart.
Let the morning light
of your love
shine in.
As light forgives darkness,
fills it,
transforms it,
your love forgives me,
fills me,
transforms me.
I am not among the dead—
my guilt, my shame, my fear.
You have brought me to life.
The light of your love raises me,
sets me free,
leads me out into this new day,
beloved,
living,
new.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
This is why we survive the winter
The world shows off
Flowers are bursting color
Flaming forsythia frames the river
Fuzzy trees and bushes make me squirmy happy
The sky beams blue
The water waves joyfully
The sand gladly greets,
us with our winter legs
(except for the hardcore tanning bed crowd – already too brown for the rest of us)
little girls and their tattooed fathers pick up shells and rocks
to fill purple buckets of heartwarming, serious cuteness
coconut oil floats deliciously on the warm breeze
I can’t stop smiling
Spring has sprung
Let love begin
🐰
AL
life: acoustic & amplified 