Author Archives: Ken Greenman

…..takes patience, a willingness to wait for the blessing of the bird you seek but accepting the possibility, perhaps the probability, that you might not be blessed this time. For the long sought Indigo Bunting might be doing Gods will… … Continue reading →

Squish beneath your shoe the occasional roach with impunity! Stomp him into your bathroom floor! Smear him onto your kitchen counter. Remove his gooey remains with a damp paper towel and toss it into the garbage can without the slightest … Continue reading →

‘Sure! The metaphor’s been used before! But it’s not trite because it’s still so right! Remember the old painting? Jesus standing at the door, knocking. Reminds me of the old rock song. “I hear you knocking but you can’t come … Continue reading →

I find this river on which I drift to be a combination of confusing confluences . Its tributaries, its ox-bows, carry old-back-waters into the current carrying me now, to reappear, like unreconciled conflicts, to deepen the rivers treacherous depths or … Continue reading →

All life’s important questions are based on counting. Does this count? Does that not count? A 25 year prison sentence, one day at a time. What year is this? 18 and a half. What day is this? 6752 (and a … Continue reading →

I don’t ask much, (just everything.) I ask for peace where now is a puddle of gore and blood on a crowded street. I ask is for security where now is an empty larder and tears on a child’s cheeks. … Continue reading →

Greetings to you, my new found Brothers and sisters in this new found faith in Jesus, which, now, tells me that, always, the intent of Divine Will has been bent, still, towards the giving of the gifts of Love, Forgiveness … Continue reading →

Today, before I left to do some chores in town, a fey sprite whispered in my ear. She said, “Kenneth, stay on the back roads!” You see, they’ve opened the new overpass last night so now Route 387 goes over … Continue reading →

Is the fundamental nature of nature, matter or soul? (And does it matter?) Does a Live Oak tree have a soul of her own through which she communes with Divinity? Or, when a potter throws clay on her spinning wheel … Continue reading →

“I know how far-gone I am when I forget how old I think I am when someone asks me, “How old are you?” So my pool-rat buddy and I joked when we showed up at the pool today, the first … Continue reading →