The Mystic

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I spent this weekend with eleven other writers and songwriters, all of us in the living room of a Big Yellow House where each morning and afternoon we would write for an hour and then share our work aloud. The feedback follows the path of "writing it up in the garden"--we are seedlings so we offer encouragement to one another gently with plenty of sunlight and nourishment.

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The following poem was written by another resident of the Big Yellow: a man named Mike Bigner. I came across it yesterday in Nerissa Nields' dining room and when I read it I thought, 'Oh my God, it's about Renee..."

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Why do I say this? Because I don't know anyone, past or present, has done more to teach people how to live than Renee. She is a Senior Angel. I'm telling you, that's the truth. (I'm sorry I'm not offering a link to Renee, in case you don't already know her blog, but it's been my experience that Senior Angels are not too hard to find.)

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