I follow the silhouette gliding smooth on rugged ground from ridge to creek, then eyes, by instinct, rise to a raven against the sun. It was not the bird but it’s shadow that caused this stillness. Do shadows leave behind an etching in unbroken snow, a trail in dust? Is there a lasting effect of […]
In the beginning was the word. The poet knows a terrible joy of writing into breath and dust a gathering substance, a formed oneness that stands itself up to walk away into this beautiful world, whole and on its own, never to return to the cerebral gunge, and so careless a verse to the hope […]
When a man steps up to the treacherous edge of his proverbial abyss, the vertigo can be unsettling. All of life’s unlived moments scream like legion from that dark hole. This morning I shucked off the notion of routine and took a walk in the cold. The deer I had not seen in days flushed […]
To Mike, the Young and Struggling Wayfarer “Dear You”, I learned of your struggle and was broken open to empathy, for I know the pain of packing one’s bags for deeper incarnations. While every leaving takes us closer home, the early departures of fledgling voyagers most often seem a plunging off the edge. Through earnest […]
Field Notes on Faith and the First World
Exploring depths previously unsounded in oneself, as best one may.
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Supporting ways of being that are life-giving and sustainable for people, communities and the planet.
Believes everyone has a story to tell.
James Scott Smith 