Cellar Goblins
Reply
Laid upon the altar
open pages of the Book
echo hollowness.
Send me to my cellared mind
to explore. Read on…
Cherise Wyneken
Pandora
There’s a box under my bed
gathering dust.
Piled inside are items
I no longer deal with: church bulletins, Read on…
The Catechism
A Scrabble board of words
questions and answers
arranged by unknown players –
visions of God dreamt up
from pages of the Bible. Read on…
A Message Revisited
Have you ever played the game called Telephone? If you have, you know how garbled the message can get as it moves along. When I was a child I was taught that God came to earth in the form of a man called Jesus in order to save us from our sins – that because of him we can go to a wonderful place called heaven when we die. Since then I have come to believe that the message Jesus … Read on…
Pushing the Envelope
I ride the spine of Point Reyes peninsula – north – to Lighthouse Point. Craggy cliffs spill to the sea – waterfalls of creeds hardened to the core. Peppered here and there with clumps of greenery, summer wheaten grass spreads across the hillsides giving hint of winter rains to come. A herd of elk pose across the crest, their pointed antlers spaced and lined like fence posts in a row – elders – watching from above their bugle call – … Read on…
Swimming Lessons
Heat surrounds me in heavy humid drifts in the dressing room at the Albany pool. Overhead pipes drip on naked torsos. My inner arms expand – embrace each face: Chinese, Japanese, Caucasian matrons, Blacks, bleached from inter-marriage, aspiring school kids – eager to learn. Baring our bodies, an olio of faiths orbits in laps toward the other side. Deep or shallow – open for torahs, arks, crosses, chadros, little Hoti Buddhas. The life guard stands ready, paroles the Olympic expanse, … Read on…
Looking For God
I once thought I knew my way. I walked through churches where men wore white robes and gold embroidered stoles to cover emptiness. The smell of baptismal water led me to stepping stones that carried me across deep places in the stream promising peaceful pastures where cows munch grass and birds perch on their backs pecking bugs for breakfast. I wanted to find words that would lift me from a dark abyss where doubts gnawed daily at my brain. I … Read on…
Fogged In
“She did not know I followed her on her daily path – hunting, always hunting for my face – searching behind each strong Sequoia unyielding to the times, or pressed in moldering tomes stored on Granddad’s shelves – homilies, translations, concordances, The Book of Common Prayer. My steps matched hers in shadow; when she turned to see they disappeared. I felt her catch her breath, listening to vibrations of my voice break through cacophonies from pulpits. I wept when I … Read on…