​fragile
 
how many locks of iron
and welded chains
secure that outer door
thicker still than when first it was built
of dense hardwood and grit
it let no one cross the threshold –
not battering ram or guile or seduction –
until inner light began to flicker
then fill the sanctuary with heat
and desire
rising flames consuming walls, ceilings
and secret stairways
melting iron, bursting chains
inner sanctum falls to ashes
where wild roses bloom
 
© 2016 phyllis boernke

It is Wednesday and church bells will ring out again this evening calling people to gather and worship. Communal worship, since life began, marks the passage of time, the significance of events. There is sustenance within a community of people who gather in times of weakness and of celebration. Over time, their lives are shared and known to one another. Significant events, family histories, become woven into the texture of the community. The joining of current lives to ancient stories adds richness to both the now and the past. Tonight people will remember the ancient ones who followed the words of guidance from their Lord. We are reminded that our source of guidance and inspiration is very close and will bring us aid and deliverance at our silent invitation.

​lenten purge

the blood of sacrifice on the lintel
the angel of mercy, witnessing,
the flight in the face of destruction

the call to abandon
to trust
to release

promise of deliverance
of fulness
of understanding
of covenant
of celebration

 - 2016 pab -

​river rising
 
 
in winter warm water
from the river rises
misty in cold air
 
when sleep eludes me
and questions persist
I go down to the river
 
my questions
dissolve in the mist
the river flows on
 
 
 
© february 2016
phyllis boernke

Last week I was smitten with the delicious thought that spring was definitely just a moment or two away. Temperatures were in the 50's and 60's! Grass was greening up all the patches where the snow was retreating.  Fuzzy little buds cover the branches of the shrubs.
Last night all of that changed and we woke to about 4 inches of heavy, wet snow on the lawn furniture, the sidewalks and roads.  Spring in the Black Hills is elusive in early February.  It teases us regularly.
​So today, I join Demeter in her restlessness. 

labyrinth under a full moon
spirit of Demeter haunts the path,
in to center
and back out
again and again,
above and below,
pacing,
keening for her daughter
 
Persephone slowly arises
adorned with pasque flowers
and snow
  
© 2016 phyllis boernke