The love of my life, and I do mean this in the biggest way possible, came down with Parkinson's about four years ago. W. T. actual. F. Big, strong, and vibrant when we met forty years ago, and now, weak as a kitten and racked with pain. I cannot stand it! We recently had a virtual appointment (one benefit out of this COVID mess) with his neurologist, and after we described the new laundry list of ailments, the doctor looked straight into the camera, into Karl's eyes, and said, "It looks like we have reached a new level in the progression of your Parkinson's. I don't like it. And I can't stop it. Karl when we met, in 1981 I don't like it and I can't stop it . His words rattled around in my head for days. That is true about a lot of things, I guess. It is certainly true of all the losses that pile up as the years fly by. Gerald Sittser said it best in his book A Grace Disguised , a book in which he describes the deep grief he encountered after his mo
Sing Hildegard, sing Mechthild Sing Hildegard, sing Mechthild, sing Julian, bring Isaiah and Jeremiah along for the holy prayer gathering in the forest. May all birds sing and most of us listen and respond. Open ears and eyes. The false prophets tweet ugly, vindictive, soulless song. Sing together our soul-saving song. Turn our eyes away from ugly greed. Sweet soul song, save us in our need. Former Indiana Poet Laureate Norbert Krapf' 's most recent of fourteen collections are Indiana Hill Country Poems (2019) and Southwest by Midwest (2020), both from Dos Madres Press. Next year his Homecomings: A Writer's Memoir , will appear.