Thursday, July 19, 2012


Torn down by longing,
I pass through a state of fitful meanness
and come out
on the other side,
transparent and content with the citrus fizz
of the cold medicine
you pour into a cup for me,
the light of your heart
in the middle of the day
like no bright sun
I’ve seen, a soft beam
that doesn’t burn
but nurtures,
a shine with no sharp edges.
You often play with metaphors
about light
(and other things),
your thoughts returning
to syllables
in strangeness,
telling new stories
inside the hoops
and wriggles of words,
each one a narrative of brightness
delivered with the particulars
of each moment’s unexpectant love
for its hues and angles,
for its curves and disparities.
Not a reconsideration,
but some kind
of birth.

©Laura Sorrells 2007
all rights reserved

I wrote this in 2007 for someone I loved very much.


  1. Nice photo.
    Adore the smell of fresh candles. :)


Search This Blog


About Me

My photo
Georgia, United States
I live at the edge of the forest in a little town in the north Georgia mountains. I teach sixth grade Language Arts and am writing a memoir of sorts about family, spirituality, and narrative. I am also exploring a possible writing project having to do with contemporary lay contemplative experience and how it might be informed by the Desert Fathers and Mothers of early Christianity. I am a relatively recent convert to Roman Catholicism and an admirer of Pope Francis, Leonardo Boff, Joan Chittister, and Richard Rohr. I'm a Lay Associate of Our Lady of the Holy Spirit Monastery in Conyers, Georgia. I am interested in indigenous cultures, narratives, and spirituality, especially how these can inform my spirituality as a lay contemplative. I write, read, take pictures, play around with creating ephemera from paper and cloth and other organic things. I cook, hike, watch wildlife, and collect random bits of interesting oddness, both tangible and abstract. I am a seer of smallness and a caretaker of ridiculous minutiae. If you want, e-mail me at or