Monthly Archives: February 2016

Monday, the last February day in 2016  “It can be your brain, your fingers, your toes, You can listen anywhere” Poems appear sometimes like this — a friend sends me a poem;  it sits on the edge of awareness for … Continue reading →

Friday February 26  “. . . and in this world not everything’s been examined” A friend of many years emailed me January 13, the day after Gerry Stockhausen died;  hers was one of so many that I only found it … Continue reading →

Wednesday  February 24      “Before I built a wall I’d ask to know What I was walling in or walling out,      And to whom I was like to give offense.” It’s hard to walk through a full day without hearing angry … Continue reading →

Monday, February 22, 2016   I have yet to tire of watching university people driving through our lovely new gate;  after years of watching people stalled in line when someone ahead in line needs to discuss logistics with the gate … Continue reading →

Monday, February 15,   “Making the House Ready for the Lord” I have not posted this Mary Oliver winter poem since 2 years and 4 days ago.  This gray Monday morning I stood at an East-facing window in the Jesuit … Continue reading →

Friday, February 12, 2016 — Thank you, Morning Edition (NPR) Driving home from an early shopping run, while ruminating about a poem for today, I listened to NPR’s piece about the deep legacy of the Persian poet Hafez (c. 1325-c.1390), … Continue reading →

Ash Wednesday,   February 10  “Lent”  =   “Spring” Mardi Gras has come and gone, opening the Christian tradition to the season of prayer called “Lent.”  That word has Anglo Saxon roots and means “Spring,” the  season when, in northern … Continue reading →

Friday,  February 5 – “When Thou commandest me to sing it seems that my heart would break with pride” We are a university, where people listen, take each other seriously.  Teachers listen to students.   When I taught full-time, some … Continue reading →

Wednesday, February 3 “And I learn about gratitude without noticing,” My niece Terri wrote these words.   Her poems focus me; get me to a “there” where I  breathe — inhale and exhale — not hurrying.   “Octogenarian,” takes me … Continue reading →

Monday, February 1 – Raymond Carver “At Least” Detroit Metro Airport, 7:23 am Saturday. I’m heading to Washington DC for the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities, an annual ritual right after my university’s January Board of Trustees’ meeting. Lots … Continue reading →