by ST, 2019 If Life were a painting, and I the artist, what would I paint (assuming I had the ability)? A landscape? I do love landscapes, serene landscapes, and dramatic ones. I’m not sure all of life could be shown in a landscape—even if it were a collage. A still life? Such can beContinue reading “If Life Were a Painting, And I Were the Artist”
Category Archives: metaphor
A Mission
by ST I left your presence, Home, So short a time ago– O how could so much experience Be crammed in so short a space: A life within a life. I marvel as I look back– Am I much changed? The impressions are so deep, Will they be scars, or Wisdom’s wrinkles? And now IContinue reading “A Mission”
Jogging
by ST I didn’t run very fast– She began behind, but soon surpassed me. I set my pace, Struggling against the tightness, Uncomfortable with the effort. She was in better shape to begin; while I had put on weight. But I was out for my own good, And now I was here, I was goingContinue reading “Jogging”
Wrinkles Aren’t Ugly!
by Susan Ternyey, 2008 The earth and life are full of wrinkles. And so what that they are? Wrinkles are beautiful! From a fairly featureless molten globe, masses of stone coagulated on the surface of our earth, cooled and hardened into rocky mountains that collided as they rode the boiling undercurrents of lower layers. SuchContinue reading “Wrinkles Aren’t Ugly!”
The Labor
by ST, 1980s Born one night– no room in the inn: crowded–every place filled full. The burden of the taxing: Payment must be made. The Only, the Humblest abode where the Lamb was kept: the Stable, the Christ was there born one night. Bourne one night in agony while others slept, a Man of constantContinue reading “The Labor”
In the Last Days, Before the New Arrival
by ST, in the 1980s From early spring, in the season of the Lamb, We waited for news from the distant land: How fares the Vineyard, shall the tree give the fig? When harvest time is here, shall ought fill the crib? The month of Julius, then Augustus, the days were wasted, To pregnant fields,Continue reading “In the Last Days, Before the New Arrival”
Pumpkin & Mouse: a parable
by ST, mid 1980s A pumpkin among many in a pumpkin patch, a mouse with a crust of bread to pack; each thought of the other but little or none; the mouse scurried by trying to get things done, the pumpkin sat stationary: content to just soak up sun. But someone knew how great aContinue reading “Pumpkin & Mouse: a parable”
The Lute Player
by ST, mid 1980s I was a lute player I traveled along any road that I happened to happen upon, any road that happened to fit the day’s song. I was a lute player I had no abode I wandered wherever by whatever mode, and the lute that I carried was my only load. 1.Continue reading “The Lute Player”
Sage
by ST, early 1980s A piece of Wisdom, A piece of the desert, matures in adversity of its own. Only a little of this seasoning much improves the flavor in a place where Life is dry as bone. Looking for sage alone for seasons one can roam in this wilderness of Life– but even sageContinue reading “Sage”
My Stories 