Lament
by Bruce • November 29, 2020 • Writings • 0 Comments
When he told her she was beautiful, she laughed aloud and asked him “Who are you?” And then later she cried, upset a cloud should smirch the sun.
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Echoes from Eden
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Writings
Random posts and exercise products from a pursuit of the writing life.
Resplendent
by Bruce • November 8, 2020 • Writings • 2 Comments
I do not want to be your sunshine or your sunset. Let’s leave that to life, and the radiance of friendships and favorites, of unexpected moments, of daily delights. But let me be the afterglow, resonating the glory of each day, an amplifier of the blessed and beautiful in your life. — Back-of-envelope poetry...
Read more →The Visitation of Rakak
by Bruce • May 24, 2020 • GraceThoughts, Writings • 0 Comments
After word had spread about Jesus walking on the Galilee, Rakak, the son of Gershem the Boatmaker, spent his mornings and evenings walking along the shore, looking for the Teacher. “Maybe if I can learn to walk on the water, I will find him,” Rakak thought, and he prayed that God would make his...
Read more →The Walnut Grove
by Bruce • November 23, 2019 • Writings • 0 Comments
Ernesto walked down in the shallow ravine next to the gravel road as the ancient pickup truck rattled slowly past. He had moved there when he saw the vehicle approaching, clearing a way for the truck to have full berth in the thin lane when it arrived. The ravine was a dry, leaf-speckled wrinkle...
Read more →The Transfer
by Bruce • March 6, 2019 • Writings • 3 Comments
When He is your Father And you come to a goodbye, Lift your soul to Him And say, “Thank you.” If you feel separation and grief, Lift your eyes to Him And say “Thank you”. If you feel warmth and tenderness, Lift your arms to Him And say “Thank you”. If you feel bruised...
Read more →Ride the Steadfast Sun
by Bruce • February 19, 2019 • Writings • 0 Comments
Why do you yell? Why do you rant and rave? Your cause of concern will pop like a bubble in time, a soon passing thing, like any thing, like all things- this too shall pass, this too shall pass, this too shall pass. Justice is inexact. Your hunger for it will not be quenched,...
Read more →That Tilting Time
by Bruce • January 4, 2019 • Writings • 0 Comments
The sun is falling, in flight from the blue haze in the east The heat is broken and light has softened- tender hues suffuse the sky and gild the white house walls in gold A careless breeze ferries about a fragrance of family in food- cornbread and chicken, buttery cheesy noodles, a savory gravy,...
Read more →Portage
by Bruce • December 8, 2018 • Writings • 0 Comments
“Welcome to NorthSouth Airlines. How can I help you?” “Good morning. I would like to get a single round-trip ticket to Seattle.” “Ahh, okay- for what dates?” “Leaving here on January 14th, and returning on the 23rd.” “This is for a minor? I see that you have a minor here with you.” “No- this...
Read more →The Fish
by Bruce • October 8, 2018 • Writings • 0 Comments
“Hi Alex- how is your head?” Alex is a small nine year-old boy who likes to talk about his runny noses and his itchy ears. He looks at me through thick round glasses so that his stare is with gigantic fixed brown eyes. His eyes are moist, though, and I see shiny rails beneath...
Read more →The Birthday
by Bruce • August 20, 2018 • Writings • 0 Comments
When Ernesto finished his cigarette, he tossed the butt into the gravel and stomped it with his brown work boot, trying to crush the nub of ashes on the end flat. He lingered with the last drag of smoke in his mouth and looked east, past the near vineyard field, toward the pad of...
Read more →Black Light
by Bruce • August 14, 2018 • Writings • 0 Comments
The sun rose in the west this morning, and the light was cold. She spoke and the words were backwards, inside out, thoughts unwound, like strands of a sticky web, attaching to chaos and confusion. Her kiss burned his neck, her gaze his eyes, her touch his arm, and sky swirled into the dark...
Read more →Thursday Morning
by Bruce • May 26, 2018 • Writings • 1 Comment
It was a Thursday morning, early, when Morton Roger Hollings tried to get out of bed, and his back locked up, leaving him virtually paralyzed. He asked the dogs to get him some ibuprofen or a thermal patch to heat his back, but they ignored him and tore up a cardboard microwave meal box...
Read more →When I Was Young
by Bruce • April 8, 2018 • Writings • 0 Comments
When I was young in solitary play in a field of marigolds under the heat of a springtime sun I suddenly felt her breath on my neck and saw the smile in her deep warm eyes and smelled rose in her long curls of hair and felt the press of her palm in my...
Read more →The Rubb Of It
by Bruce • March 19, 2018 • Writings • 0 Comments
When he lumbered into the empty clinic, he was an anxious middle-aged man with his brown hair slathered back and stuck to his head, dressed in slacks and olive- and wine-striped polo. He was average in height but stocky, and he carried a young bull terrier that lay limp in his arms. “I don’t...
Read more →Close Now, My Eyes
by Bruce • December 26, 2017 • Writings • 0 Comments
Close now, my eyes, from sun and scene and shape. Kiss not the sunset nor seascape nor linger on such eyes or lips or legs. Leave hunger to deep dreams when the daily work is done, when spring splashes field with flower, when debts are drenched and the storage bins are full. The sun...
Read more →Today Was
by Bruce • December 23, 2017 • Writings • 0 Comments
Today was sleeping in Lord of the Rings Rocky Rococo pizza achy legs and a bad back puppies whining waffles with syrup Bad Lip Reading Star Wars videos shopping mall rallying fast decision making Jimmy Johns sandwiches Emergen-C purchase puppy kisses money spending brothers gotta hug clean clothes wearing road trip chatting big band...
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