the post calvin

Lambing Season

Like wearing florals, writing about new life for spring is groundbreaking.

I pray, I type, I read, I write more ands.

I care a lot about things like that. I want people to remember good things about me.

Oftentimes when I go looking for spiritual poetry outside of Mary Oliver, I can’t find anything beyond super sanitized Christian verses.

Today, I cooked to affirm my belonging.

At that moment, Cline walked up and said, in his miraculously gentle drawl, “You can take her home if you want to.”

I’m angry that saying “Don’t tell me what to do” is more American than saying “Tell me how to help.”

I feel caught up in a collective urge to tend things.

I am naturally impatient, so I went straight to the climax (chapters 38 to 42) because I needed answers.

by Jon Gorter | Apr 28, 2020 | 3 comments

It’s hard to hear the voice inside my own head over the roar of the megasaw, much less the whisper of the earth.