by Deb Farris | Aug 22, 2023 | Devotions
Little tree, I do meet, perchance, strolling on a summer day Your fruit plentiful, with youthful blush you flourish But what of these limbs when winter bares and night winds blow No color then, nor overflowing branches to shade this ground Harvest complete, or so it...
by Deb Farris | Feb 4, 2018 | Devotions
What of this travel up rocky terrain, storms pushing against us? Pilot dips the nose of plane, so tuck your chin against the winds and like a bird rise to unexpected heights of Beauty Photo credit: Roya Ann Miller
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 | Apr 24, 2016 | Musings
I lifted my head and craned my neck to look at the clock and felt a sharp pain in my shoulders just as Mary pounced on my stomach. We really need a bigger bed I thought as I strained to read the red numbers on the clock. 2:40 am. I tried to swallow away the fiery burn...
