Author Archives: Ken Greenman

The invisible devisability between dream and dawn is preparation for the moment between breath and death. Shrouded, shimmering line, crossed vaguely between seconds, braces us for that finale’ when we slip from time to eternity.

I love that my wife loves me. That’s one of us. Maybe, since someone that lovable loves me, there’s hope.

I believe God appreciates doubt. Doubt makes faiths prayer the sweeter to Her ears.

The left hand of doubt clasps the right hand of faith, each to balance each, so a simple prayer can reach some divine destination.

I deny Ushers addition. I mean, come on! 6,500 something years? Please!! Masterdon metacarples measure in the millions. Slate, in the billions. Yet, wouldn’t it be nice to, if only for one dark night, cuddle with the child’s blanket belief … Continue reading →

I snuggle, warm beneath patch work quilts, tattered in the patches, frayed at the edges, faith and doubt stitched together by the knowing, as the cold night approaches, that some time soon, I will need no quilts to sleep.

Faces etched in tree bark smile at me as I mush through knee deep snow. They know I am harmless, like but unlike others who carry ax and saw, keen to open spaces. I let my eye see what it … Continue reading →

There is company in solitude, alone with memory, the quiet crackle of a fire place fire. It does not take much to fuel the flames or revel in life’s joy, desire, with poetry to capture them. No, I don’t miss … Continue reading →

Fluid doubt floats. Dogmatic certainty drowns under the weight of its own arrogance. Absolute anything, faith included, seamless, brittle to shattering, suffers the fate of all sin, sinking beneath the sea, sunk by solidity, unable to reach, however erratically, that … Continue reading →

What did you expect, Mary Todd, when you met him, gangling spinner of Truths? Your blue eyes sparkled as he breathed wrath. How could you have known that they who stand to close to glory are driven into the fog … Continue reading →