Author: Simona A. Brinson
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The Forest and I The forest and I know each other very well. It has learned the sound of my footsteps and when to go quiet for me. I have learned how its light changes before rain, how the air thickens when it wants to speak. We recognize each other without names.I have given it…
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-by Cædmon Nu sculon herigeanNow we must praiseheofonrices weardheaven-kingdom’s Guardian,meotodes meahtethe Measurer’s mightand his modgeþancand his mind-plans,weorc wuldor-fæderthe work of the Glory-Father,swa he wundra gehwæswhen he of wonders of every one,ece drihteneternal Lord,or onstealdethe beginning established.He ærest sceopHe first createdielda bearnumfor men’s sonsheofon to hrofeheaven as a roof,halig scyppendholy Creator;ða middangeardthen middle-earthmoncynnes Weardmankind’s Guardian,ece drihteneternal…
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Hear Me? God, can you hear me?Are you counting my tears,do you know my heart—the weight it carries in silence?Can you feel my fearswhen sorrow settles heavy,when I am weary, my soultattered and torn?Do you hear my crywhen words abandon me,when the depths of my distresshave no name?I reach for youon unbended knees,offering what I…
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~by Samuel Ullman Youth is not a time of life—it is a state of mind. It is not a matter of red cheeks, red lips and supple knees. It is a temper of the will; a quality of the imagination; a vigor of the emotions; it is a freshness of the deep springs of life.…
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