by Deb Farris | Jul 14, 2018 | Devotions, Musings, Poetry
My eyes follow the ants marching in a straight line up the side of the house heading toward the kitchen window after first discovering them assembled in clusters beneath the pots of oregano, basil and fennel that I keep forgetting to snip for our summer suppers and I...
by Deb Farris | Jul 4, 2018 | Memoir, Musings, Poetry
There is a place we used to go every summer, where wind blows off the lake, cooling sun-parched skin from day’s labor, where deer nibble on grass outside your window, where children with toughened feet run gleefully across a stoney beach, anxious for fireworks. There...
by Deb Farris | Jul 1, 2018 | Musings, Poetry
Three things I have come to realize I am completely incapable of achieving on my own. No matter how hard I try, I fail. But every day, I begin again with good intent. I have found no better way to inspire peace, patience and purity than in observing nature. So I walk....
by Deb Farris | Jun 30, 2018 | Musings, Poetry
I stood at a fork in the road. White petals blew in the wind. One road led through a canopy of trees offering shade from the heat of the sun. But the other was adorned with petals and led on through a silky light. The trunk of the tree stood wide and strong and firmly...
by Deb Farris | Jun 29, 2018 | Musings, Poetry
I walk forward. I feel you behind me but do not turn to look back. I can sense your shadow. You are still my father, just as you were two years ago when I realized your footprints would no longer be seen on earth, or your shuffling heard. I move forward but admit that...
by Deb Farris | Jun 28, 2018 | Musings, Poetry
Wake up. Feast on your favorite breakfast like the robin. Like the rabbits, with their ears poking up from the grass playing mindlessly, can we keep a sense of fun? The city scape is behind me. But I will soon be walking into it. Rolling laps of sun-streaked water...