Showing posts from October, 2014

Poets at Play--an interview with Barbara Crooker

Barbara Crooker is a quiet soul and a richly talented woman. I first heard Barbara's "voice" via a broadcast of ‘Prairie Home Companion’ when Garrison Keillor read one of her poems. I continued to discover her voice and work as it appeared in various publications, Rock and Sling, Christianity and Literature, The Christian Century, Spiritus,  and most recently in Tweetspeak Publishing’s "How to Read a Poem" by Tania Runyan (TSPoetry Press).       In February of 2014 we both attended the AWP Conference in Seattle and 'happened' to be at the same poetry workshop. I noticed her in line behind me while we waited to speak with the workshop leaders. Sounding just like a groupie I gushed about her work and unashamedly asked for her email address. We kept in touch and she agreed to participate in an 'interview' via this blog.

Here are some of her thoughts on writing poetry.
First, from  her most recent poetry collection Gold(Wipf & Stock, 201…

Sabbath in the In-Between

Many corners of the blogosphere are echoing the urge to find Sabbath rest. There is a book (Bonnie Gray's), a blog space--Still Saturday with Ms. Sandra King, and a Societywith Ms Shelly Miller. The encouragement is to set aside a day, a space, a time to listen and look for our Creator, to find much needed REST.  In this season of my life it is more and more difficult to engage in such a practice. However, I woke up the other morning and heard, "find Me in the In-Between", so I've been Sabbathing there, in the In Between.
Here are two poems from that time:
Sabbath on the Page #1**
Lunch without a phone, or a mouse
no screen, no clicks,
no taps, just drips,
the soft sound of rain
on autumn tables and 
thirsty grass
welcoming moisture
to the dry, gray ground.
Birds balance on backyard mirrors,
bouncing to the ever-bubbling bath
and back again.

Sabbath on the Page #2
The rain sprinkles, then splats 
on windows, pouring
silken silver down the…

Dew Change

The thermometer affirms
our arrival at Autumn,
the droplets on the deck
declare in dew
that the air
is too cold for the water,
changing it to
liquid on the glassy, 
warm surface.

I wonder, does
the Living Water
perform the same miracle
when it touches
my heart?

do change....