The porch on Easter Morning

   He is risen.
These words ring out to me in the form of the new life that is spring, the calling of birds to one another, the new awakening after a long sleep, as us who have slept so long, to finally feel the warmth of the Risen Lord once again. 
Here, thick fog covers the land and only daffodils and tulips break the grey barrenness of late April.  But in my heart, soul and mind the Son is burning again, for He has Risen.

Lent

  Hello, everyone.  All's quiet on Road Beyond 50.  I've sat down a few times to post but to get from my heart to the keyboard just seems fruitless.  "I will provide you with the words..."  well, He hasn't yet and that's OK.  It is Lent and maybe this has become part of my fast, my loss of words on my journey home to the Risen One.  I'm still reading your posts, though, and they all fill me with wonder and hope.