For it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted to them his property, giving to one five talents, giving to another two, and to another, one. The servant who had received the five talents went at once and traded, making five talents more. The servant who had […]
The Writer Fearing
I’m not sure what fears snag me when I sit down to put pen to paper, or fingers to keys. Probably there is the pressure to hold up an image and then the terror of feeling that the words, once sensing freedom, may charge down paths ungoverned. The art, it has something to say. But I am not so […]
The Writer Cowering
One of the things that makes it so hard for me to write–even though in writing I find an avenue of peace, of life — is that I am totally bound up in a consciousness of other people. Other people think things, after all, and what if they think of me? As far back into […]
Sometimes, Child, It Takes Fire
I’m ready to write about you now. You, who have moved out of me, and away. We burned the cord–the man who helped make you, and the woman who bore you–we burned it between two flames. Sometimes, child, sometimes, it takes fire to be set free.
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