Evenings doors begin their closings. A cellophane sun recedes to a round horizon Where a faint filtering of clouds becomes invisible as night raises the flag of darkness. The burden of evening, being alone or without, Welcomes the spirit of fear or doubt Or suspicion of sounds. But with God, the author of life and … More A HANDFULL OF PSALMS
A thousand flags in the hands of dancers grace the blue tiled floor in Solomon’s temple lifting together in praise and adulation. Horns strike to up heaven, harps and bells cut sharp the air raising a standard of worship by faith. Drums beat the rhythm of a nation. Voices together offer thanks through … More SOLOMON’S TEMPLE
What right is of this? The passage from strength, the wall of stone held between paper fingers. What faith is within the ashes of belief? Altars of gold images dance proudly on heads. What calling speaks a name to step through fire? To a place of new winds … More WHAT
Sidewalk chatter open curtains honest hands sanskrit stories of wishing wells falling stars and fire escapes on summer nights when breezes are absent and the city heats while weak fans labor under blankets of humidity making summer sweat into frustration rain washing off sidewalk chalk that dusty carpet from innocent hands creating still colored life … More CEMENT CANVAS
It’s a life of folding. Pressed down, gazing into unassuming faces, like clouds, changing and then reshaping. Songs are the blankets of thoughts. Small voices provoke streams of words. Silence opens the eyes to creative volumes. We protect. Holding the candle of our flame close. Opening up too soon could close us down. Dreams tempt … More IT’S ALL ABOUT
Stand firm, hold the ground, let courage strengthen you; lions roar only when necessary, choosing battles before war creates division. Sermons call to arms willing souls bound for glory under the flag. Worthy causes stir the need to deliver for the sake of honor and faith focusing the light on the good and just.
Sometimes the walls feel like hands moving in, taking over my space, moving me away from the center with a pushing to the outside where instead of looking out from where I am I’m looking in to where I was. It’s an odd place, not on one side or the other, until I quiet myself, … More THE PROMISE
I know a place where two roads gather into one marked by stonewalls where peace finds a rest away from the city tucked where few know it shines with quiet moments under summers cool shade. Grand trees line the road like sentries securing a path with massive forbidding mighty … More THE STONES
A hard breath parts the dust on her working hands as she repairs the soil for seeds in the season ripe to plant, in rows where hope is watered and faith realized, in the life garden, the section she owns, moving and rising the mounds waiting for vines and plants under the tides of her … More BETWEEN SEASONS
Hidden in the narrow path we take are a life of words like vines twisting we reach and choose improving by expression, the hope of blending in. But without direction our internal light fades, our steps become entangled altering our direction and creating within a shadow without form. If we follow by prayer … More NARROW PATHS
Roger Singer 