It was a loaf of bread,
a gift of love
she struggled to say
It is all I have
times were hard
her family at risk
she came to dinner
from a dark abyss
picked as a flower
from spring she left
stormed in the winds
and soon was adrift
It was a loaf of bread
it was all she had
she asked please
take it, and quietly cried
Copyright: 2018 CMM
we will both grow old,
our youth wasted in time
rusted planks of life
jutting out
feeling the days gone past
looking for a sign
we will understand how
little time we tout
until now, we look and see
our hands and body weathered
I will smile and feel the
glow of our youth
even though the shifts
are tethered
Copyright: 2019 CMM
A day of celebration:
“Now I a two-fold vision see…
May God us keep
From single vision, and Newton’s sleep.”— William Blake
The wind is speaking
The morning night
A whispered breeze
A rhythmic quietThe wind is speaking
A gentle wake
The limbs carry
The boughs breakStars hang
A sparrow sings
A morning sighs
Copyrighted: CMM 2019
Holy Week
Gray-streaked morning
pushing up a coral-rising dawn.
Our week of the holiest of holies
as the promise of mankind
now returns to renew the mystery.
Humanity looks to renewed hope.
the dawn of holy week peeks just above
the existence of creation.
Now two thousand years ago,
It has brought forward another Triduum.
CMM 2019
Eagle and Child Inkling 