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Streets of Gold
When the light is fading just behind the hills and slants in just right, the asphalt looks flecked with gold, like a river of night, shimmering star-studded, whispering ‘Follow, follow…’ So I followed, bare feet on baked asphalt, following the sun sparks round the corner past the cricket field to the mystery tree. The mystery […]
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After Solstice
The days had lengthened. The sun had journeyed northward towards the point of convergence. There, briefly, the sun stood still, then subtly directed its path southward again. Solstice: a turning of the year, a turning of the light. Waypoint for our nomadic sun. A few hours later, already, daylight had shortened. The first day of […]
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Patchwork Days
What is this mystery—the way time goes? Time goes, shuffling on its feet or shooting past like a comet, lighting up a little darkness. Time goes, creating distance, creating space. Memories crash and shift like kaleidoscope patterns. Days interweave. Where have you come from? Where are you going? Moments of time—-patches of color: deep purple […]
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What A Life I Lead When The Wind It Breathes: The Necessity of Extravagance
A few days ago I went for a spontaneous walk in the last hours of the day when the light was tinged with gold and the colors of the sky were shifting. And it was the most wonderful, to stand alone on a shining golden hillside with the wind making patterns in the wild grass […]
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The Naming of Things: Part Two
So there I was, in the tangle of things, the mundane, trying to name things, grasping at presence. Naming anchors me, embodies me in the present, and affirms my joy and pain. Without this discipline, I would be swept away by the current of time and to-do lists, a wreck washed up on a distant […]
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The Naming of Things
I do not know many things for certain anymore. Knowing starts with words—speaking the right name for things. If there is anything I know for certain it is this: this world is bigger than I know and my words are small, so small. My words wither. The life I had shrinks away. I find myself […]
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Today
Pry open your fists and let spill the gold of yesterday. Keep your hands empty for newness. Trust that it will come. It will come. Keep faith supple, malleable. Smash the idol of yesterday. With your permission, the one God becomes again Himself: limitless. All new now.
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Kathryn Kong 