Winter

Winter Prayer

O Lord, please close the
eyes and ears of my soul to mammon’s
every whisper and murmur.
How can I mirror Your perfect image
and likeness, if behind
my own rolled stone lies my
flesh as master?

Winter Writing

And thus, I return to my
writing, after a hiatus in autumn
lasting into winter, a soul
appearing adrift amongst the lost…
but maybe never far gone,
but rather more like Saint Paul –
restored at cold night to my
bridled, waiting horse.