I hold your face in my hands. Your eyes hold that glint of tears that they refuse to unleash. They are tears born of regret over decisions made, and fears over future prospects. I can only hold your face in my hands a moment before lowering them at […]
The warmth of the early afternoon drops to an uncomfortable cool. Numb fingers tap away, while sparrows and robin sing on, indifferent to the chill. Sun-swallowing swarms of cumulus cloud ensure that the cool will remain. Mira and Frank chatted about invitations. He’s finally tending to his upcoming […]
Fresh crabapple leaves flutter. The mantle clock tick-tocks, tick-tocks. Frank’s voice carries from beyond his closed door. I walk to the couch, grab a pillow, and return to my seat at the dining room table. The Syracuse windchimes sound off. A roar soft as a sated lion: the […]
A year plus since the lockdown, and another Spring teases seasonal change. While the sun radiates the neighborhood, uneclipsed by a single cloud, a chilly breeze blows. The daffodils broke hibernation, with the forsythias following close behind. Nevertheless, a familiar, invernal chill lingers. Tomorrow promises showers; my aching […]
“The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert…” MK 1:12 “Go!” This joyous fullness drives me on. Abba’s luminocity, the descended Ruach-as-dove: now, they’re a driving whirlwind, an inferno. “Go!” I stagger. Stumble. Drop to one knee. Rise up. Continue. To the desert. Where my forty-day fast awaits. […]
Husband, Father, Writer, Teacher. American Haijin. Because Haikai matters!
Frank J. Tassone 