Monolog, Dialogue, and Decalogue
December 31, 2025
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The preacher stood to give his monolog, While the people replied in their dialogue. He spoke of the journey, a travelog, And read commandments from
The preacher stood to give his monolog, While the people replied in their dialogue. He spoke of the journey, a travelog, And read commandments from
A writer can laugh, and a writer can cry. The feelings inside are the ink we supply. If we try to hide them or stuff
One choice at a time. That is how we must go— A step on the mountain, both steady and slow. For God gives strength when
Poor Peter cried bitterly when he knew he was wrong. He’d boasted of courage, but fear proved too strong. Yet out of those tears something
We live for a time. Then we all have to die— A doorway beyond, to the earth or the sky. For after our breath, comes
Mary came softly with her jar held tight— Spikenard perfume, so rare and so right. Wages for a year was the value inside. She broke
Now Caesar Augustus, the big Roman boss, Said, “All must register, no matter the loss.” A census was coming, a count far and wide, So
Some shout, “It’s party time. Lights up. More cheer.” They dislike nativity scenes that bring Jesus near. “Don’t box us with babies or truths from
I opened a drawer, and what did I see? A dusty old story, forgotten by me. Its pages were wrinkled, its sentences weak, But under
I once had a wish to be big, bold, and strong, But my own strength kept me weak all along. For life is not gained
When words won’t come easily and you despair, You reach for a sentence, but nothing is there. You scribble and doodle. You scratch and you
Are your stories hiding? They’re nowhere in sight. You stare at the monitor, but nothing looks right. Try scribbling a little. Just a doodle—one line.