In Maryland there’s a suburban neighborhood with a street on it named Fairfield. That’s where I grew up, in 727. It’s a rancher style house made of pink brick, with dark blue shutters on the…
I thought I heard a whisper in the wind,Your voice calling – “Come to me again.”“My beautiful child” –you saidMy thirsting soul, my hungry heart you fed.I walked a path to Calvary Hill,You hung from…
Each night I sleep, my body to restore,Yet morning rise, as weary as before.The day renewed, such newness life has not:Each day is with the same despondence fraught. Down on my knees I pray my…
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