June 2021 – Seashell Nell

A lesson

As the golden sun rose I rode my bike late to church, standing on the pedals for speed and focus. A large truck redirected my normal route so I passed a road I usually don’t bike, and noticed a house set back from the street. Large, dark, and the windows were all broken, unusual inContinueContinue reading “A lesson”

Sometimes I feel like God is as far away as the cross on the top of the tower at my church, which is to say: 100 feet away, against the sky, me standing with both feet on the ground. Hello, I cannot fly. But I can sing you a song I once learned, from downContinueContinue reading

There are still flowers

I saw the chicory on the side of the road, growing out of a forgotten/ broken/ rusted corner of Detroit, and I gasped like: I didn’t think they’d come back. But they did. Why was I surprised? The faded blue earned through long days of streaming sunlight. Hello, hello. I showed him: look, the chicoryContinueContinue reading “There are still flowers”