by Deb Farris | May 17, 2022 | Devotions
IWe walk the shoreline,My dog looks for things to eat,Pulling my arm off. IIFish bones, food wrappers,She finds something dangerousAlmost every day. IIISitting and resting,The dog poses like the cloudsAs the people pass. IVI have time to think,Small prayers floating...
by Deb Farris | Jun 12, 2021 | Memoir
morning, where are you? seeds of youth now buried deep, fed by soil still– … streams of light at dawn, from darkness comes your brilliance, nourishing your growth. … cast not a shadow of unrest, but protecting, till your faith takes hold. …...
by Deb Farris | Mar 27, 2020 | Devotions
They walked on the shoreline of La Saladita and she said she needed a coconut shell to carry the treasures she was collecting. Before she had even finished the sentence, she could feel his eyes roaming the sand. He found one within minutes and smashed it against a...
by Deb Farris | Dec 14, 2019 | Devotions
Day 13 Advent Calendar Poetry in Motion Thirsty shores quenched by laughing, lapping waves. Sky wrinkled from a long night’s work. Dark clouds, weighty cloaks, revealing pockets full of mystery. Against the somber waters, wings of hope appear overhead and her eyes can...
by Deb Farris | Mar 22, 2019 | Travels
Who can turn off the moon or flip off the starlight? Not you. Not I. We are who the sky invites to sit beneath its vast canopy and rest within the moon’s light or beneath the sun as it traverses across this great field of a sky And we are where the salty sea...