The 60-Second Sabbath

Loss

  • March 14, 2012

    I stand at the sink.In the sink are a coffee cup,a cereal bowl,and a spoon.At this moment,the energy it will taketo move these three itemsfrom the sink to the dishwasherseems overwhelming.I can not do it. This is depression. For me,… Continue reading

  • Who You Are

    Though loss follows loss,you are not diminished.If anything,you becomemore clearly, purely, simplywho you are. Imagine yourself a crystal goblet,sparklingly empty,reflector and refractor of Light–an object of beauty breathtaking,ready to be filledwith the attainableand the inconceivable. Text and image © 2012 by… Continue reading

  • Senior Cats

    They are now eight.How can a creature of eight yearsbe "senior"?They eat "senior" food.They go for annual "senior" exams. My other cat(companion of my adult life)lived to be nineteen.If eight means "senior,"what was she? I am fifty-eight,a week from fifty-nine.What… Continue reading

  • When I Lost My Parents

    When I lost my parents(as in death, not in the grocery store)I questioned the purposeof their life's creative output:    my mother's needlework;    my father's woodworking;    my mothers hand-written, stained recipe cards;    my father's watercolor paintings of… Continue reading

  • Limits

    Last night I dreamt of flying,but could only do sowithin the confines of my living room. Even the green and yellow parakeet,within her cage,can fly. Even the iridescent blue betta,within his gallon tank,can swim. Even the cane-enabled old lady,within the… Continue reading

  • The Face

    I cradle my brand-new grand niece,fresh from the other side,and look into her wide-open, unfocused brown eyes.Why would she so soon focus on earthly thingswhen she's just come from the Infinite,just looked eye-to-eye into the great and open Origin? At… Continue reading

  • Otherworldy Relief

    I have not considered suicide,but I do see death as a welcome friend,the opportunity to stop,the opportunity to know what really mattered. Wisdom and deatharrive arm in arm–two drinking buddiesexiting the pub,laughing heartily at a jokeonly they understand. At long last,so… Continue reading

  • Moving Forward

    Is that a light I seeflickering at the end of this tunnel?Or is it the flame of yet another firewaiting to scorch and scar? I have no choice but to move forward,whatever waits. Or do I? Text and image ©… Continue reading

  • My Workplace

    In my workplacewe toil wielding tools of peace,    stories of reconciliation,    psalms of confidence and comfort,    women and men of courage and commitment. Why, then,when this has been my life's dream,do I feel so utterly mismatchedto the… Continue reading

  • This House of Labor

    I run toward the doorwaythat leads back into the roomI just tried to leave. In this house of labor,every exit is a return. Surely somewherewaits a yard meant for play? Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights… Continue reading