by Prasanta | May 9, 2018 | Poetry, Thankfulness, Time
EVERY DAY My hundred-year-old next-door neighbor told me: Every day is a good day *if you have it.* I had to think about that a minute. She said, Every day is a present someone left at your birthday place at the table. Trust me! It may not feel like...
by Prasanta | May 8, 2018 | Memories, Poetry, Travel
When I was in college, I spent a semester in London and had the wonderful opportunity to visit the beautiful Lake District area one weekend. Five of us traveled there, stayed in a charming bed and breakfast with a gorgeous view of sheep dotting the hillsides...
by Prasanta | Mar 28, 2017 | Books, Poetry
Calling Cards Across pages hundred footprints of ideas, worlds within, shut-in, choked from chains of dust, caress each corner down binding torn and worn open page, set free captive verse and thought. Hands reach quench thirst starve ignorance whisper with ages share...
by Prasanta | Mar 24, 2017 | Poetry, Spring
Spring by Gerard Manley Hopkins Nothing is so beautiful as Spring – When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush Through the echoing timber does so rinse and...
by Prasanta | Mar 8, 2017 | Hope, Poetry, Spring
I didn’t plan to write about trees. It just so happens I saw a poem about willow trees on a website, and a corresponding article about willow trees and aspirin, which prompted me to write about willow trees here. I happened to come across a poem (posted near the...
by Prasanta | Mar 6, 2017 | Herbs and Medicine, Poetry
I grew up near a golf course with graceful, majestic willow trees on the edge of the property. The golf course and the trees were just around the block and I loved looking at those beautiful trees. It was private property and it was also a golf course, so it was not...
by Prasanta | Dec 23, 2016 | Advent, Poetry, Quotes, Uncategorized
Mary’s Song Blue homespun and the bend of my breast keep warm this small hot naked star fallen to my arms. (Rest … you who have had so far to come.) Now nearness satisfies the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps whose...
by Prasanta | Dec 22, 2016 | Advent, Poetry
Breath When, in the cavern darkness, Jesus opened his small, bleating mouth (even before his eyes widened to the supple world his lungs had sighed into being), did he intuit how hungrily the lungs gasp? Did he begin, then, to love the way air sighs as it brushes in...
by Prasanta | Dec 21, 2016 | Advent, Poetry
“…for who can endure the day of his coming?” ~ Malachi 3:2 When an angel snapped the old thin threads of speech with an untimely birth announcement, slit the seemly cloth of an even more blessed event with shears of miracle, invaded the privacy...
by Prasanta | Dec 19, 2016 | Advent, Jesus, Poetry, Uncategorized
I came across a few poems from Luci Shaw and Madeleine L’Engle recently, and will be posting a poem each day this week leading up to Christmas from one of them. Below is one I particularly enjoyed. I tried searching for some artwork, but I could not find...
