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When Light Shines through a Hole in the Heart

When Light Shines through a Hole in the Heart

I notice the fog as I take a final look out the window before heading to bed and feel an odd sense of comfort. At 2:00 a.m., I begin to understand why. What had been invisible to the eye—the air—had become visible, or so it seemed. The white mist of comfort,...

Immanuel

The last of the leaves linger on the low branches. I can just barely make out fall’s final statement of color on the trees. They stand exposed as the howl of the wind whistles through the sinews and tendons extending skyward. The air is icy, breath crystallized,...

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