Femininity Annabelle Brown

Eyes flutter, open, adjusting to the glow. Radiant ribbons of sunlight illuminate the barely visible dust particles that stir and dance with each exhalation.

Stumbling from the bed, warm skin meets cold floor tiles sending a chill through my spine. The clicking of four furry feet hurry behind me, as a gentle bark echoes the growl from my stomach, notify me that more than one of us is ready for breakfast.

The Keurig whirs to life, exhaling the scent of fresh coffee as I fumble through the cabinet to find my favorite mug, the one with Ecclesiastes 3:11 engraved along the side.

Inhaling the steam, I open the door to the patio and settle into the porch swing. Peeling open the leather cover, my eyes settle too on the book of Psalm.

A gentle buzz draws my gaze to a bumble bee rolling through the blood red roses as the buds shake in the breeze.

I release an exhale filled with wonder. Each petal on the rose bush, crafted with such care, points towards the same marvelous Creator who molded me in my mother’s womb.

My eyes fill with dawn brightening to day as my heart beats with longing for my Lord and Savior.

…He’s the same God that saved you and me With Him is where I want to be

The Sacrament Katie Watkins

I found relief in the sharing of heat and darkness, In a calloused body, a tangled abstraction, a depressed cupid, with salt-and-pepper hair.

this ritual according to deep roots in holy traditions, Old World Ancestors, quiet moments like sugar-dusted Turkish delight, crafted by the very fingers of God.

I dunked my head under icy water, To dull the incredible fever

To wake the worshipping supplicant.

But the cold plague of marble dens, the amber perfume and olive oil, the holiness, by grace of purgation, held us together, still natural, still untroubled.

And we were purified, stark naked, without any beauty or defect concealed.