by Deb Farris | Jan 30, 2018 | Musings
You walked with me that day even though you had a blister covering the corner of your heel from our hike the day before. The Tucson sun beat down on the exposed skin of your neck and calves, turning them pink even though you took extra care with the sunscreen. But the...
by Deb Farris | Jan 27, 2018 | Musings
Don’t tell her I’m coming I won’t Let it be a surprise I will Does she suspect? I don’t think so Not sure…? I said nothing I’ll stay back when we land That’s a plan Let her think it’s just you Will do I’ll take my...
by Deb Farris | Jan 26, 2018 | Musings
Old white van parked on the roadside, mud speckled in snow. Marble streaks and tire tracks from window frame could be a photograph. Consider miles traveled through rain and ice, her engine puttering sparks of life as shiny sedans and semi road hogs blast their horns....
by Deb Farris | Jan 23, 2018 | Musings
From kitchen window broom stands against garage door, askew. What lies beyond the door of this day—off center, all lopsided and cockeyed? I rinse my cup and listen to water rushing from the faucet through my fingers. Cup shines. What can bear a stain? Day unfolds in...
by Deb Farris | Jan 21, 2018 | Devotions
Moods of water float with ease on ice, broken. Let yours too. Water is drawn to rocky shores near naked sand. So am I. What is Love that it should shine through the dark night of my soul? What is darkness that it should reveal the Light of your love? Through fogs of...
by Deb Farris | Jan 19, 2018 | Musings, Poetry
Look and see! The sun makes its daily triumphant entrance, sweeps it’s brilliance across the expanse of the sky, pours out its presence on all things, then slips away to give you a little space. It jogs away every night only to circle back to you first thing in the...
by Deb Farris | Jan 12, 2018 | Musings
Sun, where have you gone? Seeds of youth now buried deep, yet fed by soil still. Nourishing our growth, from darkness comes Your brilliance; streams of light at dawn. Pass not a shadow of unrest, but protecting, till our faith takes hold. Beauty yet unseen,...
by Deb Farris | Dec 29, 2017 | Devotions
The last of the leaves linger on branches that twist and gnarl, vulnerable and exposed, extending skyward. The wind moans and whistles through their sinews and tendons. The air is icy, my breath crystallized as swirls of mist twirl like smoke in front of me. It’s not...
by Deb Farris | Dec 16, 2017 | Greater Good, Musings
If you’re like me, you’ve experienced the benefits of negative ions at some point in your life. I’ve lived in both the Appalachians and the Rockies at different points in my own and I remember that I was able to find a sense of peace and well-being that, in spite of...
by Deb Farris | Dec 8, 2017 | Greater Good, Musings
I stopped taking a glass of water to bed at night. When cat wants me up, she knocks off whatever is on the nightstand. And cat is keeping me green. Those flimsy recyclable plastic water bottles make a crashing sound like breaking glass that wakes even deaf dog. Only...
