








Images are all from the Wienerwald, or Vienna Woods, the large forest on the west side of the city.









Images are all from the Wienerwald, or Vienna Woods, the large forest on the west side of the city.

St Francis and the Wolf*The city trembled at the wolfoutside its gates, fangs fierce, howling with hunger, fur thick with blood.Francis approaches softly, palms open. When the wolf lunges his breath stays slow and steady,looks with eyes of love,smiles and bowsand the beast whimpers,licks the
I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Christine Davis’s reflection and poem Life to Life. In recent years, after deaths and losses, changes and griefs, I’ve moved farther and

Click CC to turn closed captions on or off. On Pentecost*Spirit of courage,we stand huddled too,like the disciples in the upper room,wondering what is real and true anymore.Reveal to us the pulse of your firein each of our heartsand send us with bread and rosesout
2 Responses
Mary Oliver has always been one of my favorite poets, she seems to speak what I am thinking but never can get it on paper. I spent a day in the forest Monday walking the trails among the gorgeous trees and breathing in the autumn smells of the forest, a wonderful day of Sabbath. Thank you for the poem and pictures!
Gorgeous photos . . . makes me want to travel there and get lost for a while . . .