The Mark






broken, battered –

but boldly blooming.

Consider each fracture

proof you are alive;

count each blossom





For Hymn, the Bell Tolls



Toll, ancient bell,

Ring home my wayward heart;

Sing to my soul,

Lest from the truth I part.

Chime, ancient notes,

To strum my wand’ring strings;

Peal forth your hymn,

To give my spirit wings.

At the Basilica

Euphrasian Basilica, Porec


Enter, hearts in need of rest,

Tread where ancient feet have trod,

Feel the Hallow in thy breast,

Find in silence words of God;

Let the sanctuary leach

Peace into thy weary soul,

Solitude, let wisdom teach

How love can make of parts, a whole.


Shine On

frosty sunflower


Shine on, little one,

though your petals crack 

with cold and icy 

shivers lick hungry

at your tender throat.


Shine on when Arctic

winds whisper white lies,

slanderous icebergs

distorting your image,

warping your purpose.


Shine on when frosty

tentacles deaden

pulse, sluggish sap-drips

creeping in dead-end

veins, maze of the damned.


Shine on despite cold

that hounds, ferocious

predator alert 

for signs of weakness,

patient for the kill.


For your name is Light.

Your breath blooms as warm 

sunbeams. You were born

to spin straw into

gold; so shine, shine on.