When did I stop burning? I remember the way my small heart blazed as I meandered down earthen paths arms outstretched I wanted to pull Creation in close and whisper hallowed truths over Her shoulders I was not afraid then I burned Spilling light like so many stars I remember watching my mother light cigarettes […]
Come Step Into the Light With Me
by on October 12, 2017 12 Comments
I love lights, especially strings of lights. I have four long strings, composed of large globes in three colors, strung across the arbor outside the back of our home. Every day at about 5:00 p.m., I turn the switch so that their blue, green and white sparkles can be enjoyed as the evening covers the […]
I Choose Subversive Joy
by on October 10, 2017 7 Comments
Lately, it feels like voices of hate have been amplified. I turn on the news. I log on to Facebook. I listen as fear strangles the heart of conversation around me. Permission has been granted—maybe more than ever before, maybe for the first time in a long time—to hate, vilify and attack our fellow humans. […]
The Fire
by on October 5, 2017 3 Comments
by Beth Watkins | Twitter: @iambethwatkins I was still young when I learned of the fire. I grew up in its proximity, among others who were alight, and I was in love with everything about it, asked to take it from my mother’s table As early as I can remember. I asked for the fire; This […]
The Girl Who Was Afraid of Matches
by on October 3, 2017 9 Comments
Here’s a true story: I was scared of lighting matches until I was twenty years old. Twenty years later, now many books of matches under my belt, I find this both ridiculous and completely understandable. Ridiculous because matches are necessary and not really that difficult. And understandable because in order to light a match you […]
