Isolation made me
yearn for all the undone
to be fixed and put right and so I
put up homes and perches
for the birds,
my own sort of tuppence tossed
out the back door where the wee-est search
for breadcrumbs. They plead
with their broken songs to be
And we, safe inside our white house watch,
noses pressed to the glass
as they jump from branch to branch.
And still they sing,
the sparrows. Maybe they know
His eye is truly on them.
“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.”Matthew 10:29 ESV
I stopped putting a tally in this space.
All numbers do is smear and blur the pain and fear.
All numbers do is feed the enemy’s lie that it has the power.
Today I took my dog on a long walk
in the woods. Deliberately,
of course. And just to see
if there’s any marrow left in the world.
For a time
when we were out there alone and all we could hear were birds of all kinds and the swish of still bare tree limbs in the wind
I almost felt
Just me and him
like the good
old days—when was that?
Oh. Yes. A handful of weeks ago.
I almost couldn’t remember
Or is it just that it hurts too much
to think of all we’ve lost so
fast? “Front only the
“living is so dear…”
let it not be
thought that from the damage done
in youth rises the irreversible melancholy of despair
for the Lord is my rock
and my salvation
blessed is he who comes
and many are the angels who encamp
around the innocent who live
on and beyond the hard,
always toward the goal