Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Driving home last night, I saw, loping ‘cross the road like he owned it, a wild coyote-dog on the hunt. Always, at night time, there are deer and fox and squirrel, prey and predator down here near the North Carolina … Continue reading →

(yes…this is a song…. somewhat of a Latin beat…. i can play it on my harmonica) I know there’s never been a time my love when I didn’t love you.. Since the beginning of time there’s never been a time … Continue reading →

Ah! The joy of a blue sky Sabbath at the end of September when the heat of a Carolina Summer, of a sudden, stumbles off a cliff into cool Autumn. Where, (even for God!) there is little to do but … Continue reading →

Humanity is addicted. Habituated to the horrors of our own creations. We are consumed by the wild, willfulness of the flames, by the power we have to create them and the power they exert over us. We listen to whispered … Continue reading →

O’ Mother-Father-God, forgive my sins and the harm I have caused. Create in me a gentle wisdom. Grant to me a soulful, centered peace. Foster and enhance in me a continuing and strengthening willingness to be an instrument of Your … Continue reading →

Hanging on the wall in my study is a family heirloom. An old wooden coo-ko clock, from Switzerland, I think. Immigrated cross the Atlantic to America by my Polish Grandmother, Rose. I remember it used to hang in my Grandparents … Continue reading →

Oh! The siren song of the cell phone, that most seductive call in the unnatural world. No longer a ringing like church bells. Rather a series of computer-tones I had something to do with, I confess. (I didn’t create it, … Continue reading →

Greetings! My first assumption is that Word Press is real, not some sort of dead end scam, bilking me of some few bucks each year…. By faith, I believe that assumption. So, my Word Press blog is real. And so … Continue reading →

Unlike the ancient mariners who kept their eyes on the closest shore, for they were sure, out beyond, there be sea monsters there, I’ve tacked the edges of the furthest oceans, for by faith I believe, Soul abideth beyond. And … Continue reading →

Yes! Yes! I know! Jane was born in England in 1775 and, in 1817, died. So young, the Angels cried. Emily was born in America, 1830 and was carried out through the back door of Homestead, her sanctuary in Amhurst, … Continue reading →