Be Still.

RenéE Christine Ehle

Eighth Day


In the beginning was a void, an absence,

less than silence.  


Then, there was wood, and a lathe.  

Smoothed and varnished.  Wool washed 


and felted, wires pulled 

taut between pegs.  A hammer, 


more than one.  

Pedals, rods, bone.  


Then, fingers:  

Notes and chords, arpeggios.


And there was music, 

and there was rest. 


And God heard, 

and God 



Diane Calvert, Flight into Egypt

Steve barnwell, So Close

Why, why, why?

Volume 1

Shaped by the names we dare call Yahweh,

So we pray and pray and make some more.

Lord! Have mercy!