LOVE Archives - Ellen Morris Prewitt

We Go On

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on November 9, 2024. Posted in Featured, General, GOD, GRIEF, LOVE. 3 Comments on We Go On

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That is Swimming

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on September 13, 2024. Posted in Featured, General, LOVE. 6 Comments on That is Swimming

First, you submerge into a different world. That’s the way I was taught. Sink. Quiet descends. The world turns cloudy, blurred. Bend your knees. Curl your legs and press your toes against the wall. Stretch your arms forward, cross your hands into a vee. Push off. You are an arrow cutting through the water. Take a breath, quick, under your...

My New Pair of Wings

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 13, 2024. Posted in Featured, General, LOVE, Writing. 6 Comments on My New Pair of Wings

My favorite wings are the silver and brown leather wings I bought for myself several years ago. Christmas had arrived, and all the years of my childhood, Christmas meant new wings. Bright-colored jeans and a long sleeve snap shirt and cap guns in their holsters, too. Maybe I was nostalgic or maybe I was feeling sorry for myself, but I wanted a new...

The Gaze of Compassion

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 2, 2024. Posted in General, GOD, LOVE, Writing. 2 Comments on The Gaze of Compassion

“Imagine the moment when the presence of Great Love gazes with compassion on the parts of me with which I struggle.” This prompt was brought to us by a member of our Contemplative Writing Group gathering. At the time, all-consuming Great Stress filled my life; I struggled to remember Great Love. So writing contemplatively on the gaze...

Love Lives On

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 27, 2024. Posted in General, GOD, LOVE. 14 Comments on Love Lives On

This week, our family lost a loved one. The funeral was heart-wrenching. An incredible light, gone far too soon. But joy too. Gratitude for having her, the delight she was on this earth. One thing I know from the service: love lives on. For the nine hour drive to-and-from the funeral, rain pounded. Windshield wipers flailing, me squinting to...

Love in the Lowe’s

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 24, 2024. Posted in General, LOVE. 6 Comments on Love in the Lowe’s

I was sitting on the floor of the Lowe’s today waiting on the key cutter to cut new keys. A man was talking to the key cutter while he worked. I don’t know what they were talking about because they were talking in Spanish. The man, it turns out was the dad of a family who came walking down the aisle to join him. Walking, except for a...

You are Wonderful

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 6, 2024. Posted in General, LOVE. 14 Comments on You are Wonderful

I like mayo on my hotdog. I have one nearsighted eye and one farsighted eye. I can swim the length of a 25 yard pool in one breath. I am afraid of ocean liners and the car running out of gas. Snakes don’t scare me. I love my family. I hate single-use contact lens. I was blond as a child then strawberry blond then a boy...

Wild Poems

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 22, 2024. Posted in GOD, LOVE, Writing. 3 Comments on Wild Poems

My emotions rocklike wavesa victim of forces uncontrolled. My heart singsLord, it’s beautiful.How does that calm survive the chaos? Purple Martins fly,Ripe plums bend branches.Beautiful brick marcheswhere grass grows green.We will all be okay. A jigsaw of cloudsWhat looks forebodingcreates contrast, warning us,“We are alive.” We...

That Humming is You

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on April 24, 2024. Posted in GOD, LOVE. 7 Comments on That Humming is You

No one is getting out of this alive. The flow will continue after you, it never stops. Don’t dam it. Jump into the stream. Don’t struggle. Roll. Submerge. Stopper your ears and listen. That humming is you, your life energy. What you bring into the world. Once you are gone, that particular humming will stop. Love it. Marvel in it....

Ode to Mud

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on February 18, 2024. Posted in Featured, LOVE, Writing. 8 Comments on Ode to Mud

My first love was mud. In the backyard of the pink house in Denver on the corner of a street lined with other one-story tract houses, my little family lived. Mother didn’t plant, Daddy Joe didn’t garden. The bushes were scarce and scraggly, whatever the developer had set in the ground. Untended, like three-year-old me in the springtime yard in my...