The View from Jenny's Hill READ READ

Get inspired


and receive free, Jen’s song “A Kind of Grace,”
a finalist in a recent Maine Songwriter’s Competition.

15 Apr, 2015

To My Fellow Pilgrims

15 Apr, 2015
This is what I will tell you: Never again carry an itinerary.
Okay, have a landing pad and a departure pad
as anchors if you must.
But that is all.
Allow each moment to inform the next.
Nowhere to go; no place to be, except
right here
for as long as you decide.
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04 Apr, 2015

Since Galway

04 Apr, 2015
I saw her then
around the hundredth bend since Galway
thumb out
cherub rosy cheeks of youth
in the misty rain.
By instinct, I pulled to the roughened side
hastily clearing the seat of
rain pants, extra socks, and water bottle
ahead of rushed exhalations of thanks.
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02 Apr, 2015

April in Connemara

02 Apr, 2015

On a day when winds are raw, rains insist
on their priority,
and fog is playing stingy
with the view
don’t climb Diamond Hill in some
stubborn display of endurance.
No panorama rewards your foolishness.

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01 Apr, 2015

At the Fairy Ring

01 Apr, 2015

I like to imagine
the carver's desecration halted
mid-letter --
E C \
(was it to be a 'V' or a 'W'?)
by the Fairy Queen herself
outrage propelling her through
the veil to our
dense air.

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02 Feb, 2015


02 Feb, 2015
And I stopped,
heart hammering from exertion
snow shoes resting in deep wells of powder
wind gust rustling the ample boughs
of a Hemlock nearby --
accumulations releasing in a mellifluous whoosh.
A show shoe path through the woods of Maine
And I heard, Are you with us?
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19 Dec, 2014

Come by Here

19 Dec, 2014

(From a guest sermon message at Union Church – November 16, 2014)

I want to share this very human idea that God is someone we call on, or return to again and again, when in fact, God never leaves. It is we who leave. And yet, we ask over, and...

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22 Sep, 2014

Humble Tasks

22 Sep, 2014

You take no credit, as the night
sky takes no credit for the moon
she writes as if only to me
And I ask her
How can I be that vessel of emptiness
who by being nothing
invites everything?

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22 Sep, 2014

At Long Last

22 Sep, 2014
I’ve come out of hiding
at long last
a half-century is all
it took
This is no crossroads;
this is a launch.
From a cliff?
Into a sea?
Up where the air is clear?
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30 Jul, 2014

The Woods at Timber Point

30 Jul, 2014

with breezes like assurances from a gentle god
and skies as fair as my eyes
through her woods
I walked
working hard to slow my pacev holding a question
and searching for signs

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30 Jul, 2014


30 Jul, 2014
The wolves, they haunt me
slinking from the poem about a lonesome one’s journey
springing from the book about their predatory value to the whole.
She tells me it is no accident
their coming to me,
and I long to greet them again
in night school.
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