L.M. Browning's Blog, page 11

My Religion Is New England | A Poem

A selection from Vagabonds and Sundries   My feast days come When the apples are ripe And the blueberries Hang heavy with juice. My communal wine Is the crisp salty liquor sipped From the oysters that grow Along the black rocks in the bays. On the afternoons when the molted leaves Float in the air […]

Dormant Answers | A Poem

A selection from Vagabonds and Sundries   I sat for a time by the burning bush. A naked child among the harsh winds yet, while the flames were high, they gave no warmth. I sat for a time at the foot of the mountain waiting for the prophet to descend, in need of understanding only […]

My Flesh and Blood | A Poem

A selection from Vagabonds and Sundries   My ghosts rattle through the house, The same now, as they did decades ago Upon the nights of their creation. Once tormenting me with the memories they carry, I have grown accustom to their presence, Tending them as if they were my children, Rather than my captors. Once […]

The Familiar Mystery | A Poem

A selection from Vagabonds and Sundries   Within the muddle of influences I listen for my voice. Extracting myself from all that I was taught So to be free to remember what I knew. Do we ever see our own face? Wipe off the thick make-up of parody So to be free to see the […]

Unwanted Bedfellows | A Poem

A selection from Vagabonds and Sundries I live in a house filled with ghosts. The cat sees them, waking from a dead sleep to stare out into the emptiness where the demons dance, disembodied. I used to see them, when I was a child, unaccustomed to being haunted. Their presence now common, they blend into […]

After the Flood | A Poem

by L.M. Browning | Visit the Bookstore»   Sweet songbird, vibrantly passing midst the drab and the silence of this small room of resignation sing for me.

Upon the Desert Wind | A Poem

A selection from In the Hands of the Immortal Weaver: Poems of Sacredness and Belonging   I want to make a pilgrimage back to our homeland of sand, blood, and ripened figs. To unearth the garden I planted in another life the roots of which might still cling to their moorings in the earth, even […]

In the Wake of the Attacker | A Poem

A selection from In the Hands of the Immortal Weaver: Poems of Sacredness and Belonging   The knife goes in up to the hilt twisted by a hand once taken in trust, and life must change. Do not fear what comes next. Let the attacker flee, betrayal heavy on his conscience. Pull the knife out […]

Searching for Hidden Doors | A Poem

A selection from In the Hands of the Immortal Weaver: Poems of Sacredness and Belonging   You must be a child to find the hiding places where the unseen ones dwell just beyond the veil. The logic of the adult cannot think beyond the four walls, —blind to the secret hatches and hidden doors that […]

Approach Yourself with an Open Hand | A Poem

A selection from In the Hands of the Immortal Weaver: Poems of Sacredness and Belonging   Choose to be your own lover. Be gentle with yourself. do not pummel yourself or take a harsh tone. Encourage rather than discourage. Choose to be your own mother. Sit calmly with yourself on those nights of fraying and […]