The 60-Second Sabbath

Dreams

  • Missing Winter

    Where are you winter?Where the scouring windsand white-rimed leaves,hold-overs from last season's arboreal couture?Where the leveling whiteness,the inward-driving respitefrom summer's relentless restlessness? Where are you winter? Our warm outerwear waits in darkness,wondering, worried;a feeling of abandonment settles like duston the… Continue reading

  • Reverie

    She looked beyond the sink–filled with soapy water and chipped cups–out the open window to the western sky,which flamed with orange and red,like heaven itself were burning to the ground. The living-room stereodelivered the "Flower Duet"from her favorite opera, Lakmé.… Continue reading

  • Autumn Song

    This coming coolnessintroducesan edgeof uncertainty. Autumn(my favorite season)is a time of transition. Here in Denver,    nights shift from cool to cold,    trees from bold to barren,    the patio from flowered and fragranced to emptied and wrapped,   … Continue reading

  • Keep Moving

    Continue the journey,not out of fear,but curiosity. Continue,not out of anger,but love. Continue,not out of need,but generosity. Continue,not out of hurt,but healing. Continue,not out of emptiness,but fullness. Continue,not away from others,but into yourself. Continue the journey,not to avoid death,but to… Continue reading

  • Change

    "Change is a'comin',"says the old man,leaning forward in his rockeron his age-warped porch. He looks to the sky,listens to the modulation in bird song,feels on his stubbled facethe shifting direction of the wind,tastes, smells things out of my reach,not even… Continue reading

  • Election Prayer

    I pray for our country,that we choose unity over division,hope over despair,poverty over wealth,surrender over dominance,humility over arrogance,peace over violence,compassion over power,the holy over the unholy.  I pray for our country. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights… Continue reading

  • The Transition

    The moment will comewhen I movefrom non-existenceto existence,from pseudo-beingto true being,from illusionto life,from the image of the Divine,to Divinity. What will I carryinto and through this transition?A handful of longing?A handbag of hope? Perhaps only a heartthoroughly emptied and cleansed,prepared… Continue reading

  • Dream 3

    I dream that I am a ghost. Without any recollection of my death,I now live in my hometownin an expanded versionof my father's Victorian era office.It is somewhat of a reunion–I live here with dozens of other ghosts like me,many my… Continue reading

  • Native Tongue

    English is my second language. Poetry is my first. Do you want to understand me?Do you want to be understood?Engage me with symbol and simile,metaphor and ritual,evocation and allusion,the resonant, resounding play of syllables,the engaging, enriching arc of imagery. This… Continue reading

  • The Castle

    St. Teresa,Avilan mystic,mystery see-er,observer of God's loftiest grandeurand tiniest marvels,explains that my soulstands as a vast castle,a many-roomed mansion,an extraordinary, multi-storied highrise,gilded and jeweled. Given that–in the marvelously graced mindof this, our outwardly simple sister–my soulholds the essence of my… Continue reading