Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Beware those men of the cloth, their faces pinched from tasting only the sour they see in their sinful world, their Bibles clutched in their clawed grip like cold, stone weapons… Beware the churchy lady sitting prim in her pew, … Continue reading →

How fortunate at Christmas time are poets who-have-all those words to rhyme! Darkest night to brightest light! Gifts to bring and bells to ring! Songs to sing to a new-born King! Jesus, the meek and mild baby laying asleep in … Continue reading →

We have only this day for certain. And tomorrow’s a question at best. So I’ll live my life softly and hold my loves hand as we dance to the tune of the band. I will always be with you my … Continue reading →

Why wish for a return to some imagined realm of calm, when everything seemed as it should be, like a God inspired Psalm? Peace on earth. Affordable housing for all. No such thing as the Atomic Bomb. As if each … Continue reading →

The wild bees are bewildered! They swarm around two iron shepherds crooks, searching for two red hummingbird feeders where, just yesterday, there were ten worker bees on each yellow, plastic blossom sucking the sugar water. Sweet liquor making drunkards of … Continue reading →

I used to do this… I used to do that… I used to eat platters without getting Fat! Now, with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat, I ask my self daily, “What’s up with dat!!??”

We do not know what this day might bring. We cannot see beyond the moment we are woken by that jangling alarm… In this new day, shrouded in thick, morning fog, is woven the grand question facing all. Will it … Continue reading →

Grant me a sense of the sacred, a hunger for the Holy, that I might feel, amidst rock and rose, the Spirit abiding through eternity, a knowing, sure as life can be, that me and stone and apple tree, created … Continue reading →

That hawk came back like a thunder clap, a lightning flash, like a heart attack. And the birds I feed and the voles and squirrels scavenging scattered seed and suet on the grass beneath the feeders won’t come back for … Continue reading →

She was three years my junior, chronologically. At 75, she at 72, the gap between us would have been insignificant. But at 13, the gap between me and her 10 was insurmountable. Yet, Sheryl, little sister of a classmate, showed … Continue reading →