Are beginnings and ends mere words, or reality?
Milestones in change, on this project of mine called life,
They are sometimes planned, mostly not.

The big ones change things forever,
And so do the smaller ones, just gently and quietly.
Like the waves on a beach in summer.
In the ocean of love, where we all drift.

“It passed from His side and water flowed.”
This is beginning of all ends, the end of the beginning.

This town I have lived in all my life changed its name again.
Sometimes called hurt, sometimes home;
trouble is, it’s hard to tell the difference,
it even uses both names on the same day.

So when does it become so painful I need relief,
and is that liberation …
endurance, suffering, departure, or perhaps chastisement?

Which word will it spell today.

A Smoking Heart

A smoking heart needs oxygen and space.
It has to be open, exposed,
ready for anything,
will and other protections removed,
in eagerness for the Lord to enter it fully.

My heart needs to be warm, and vibrant,
human and beating.
Aware of all that is, and all that is false.
It leaves the false behind, in a locked chamber,
called my mind.

Now vulnerable and undefended,
it warms to Your presence,
producing prayers manifold and indescribable,
as smoke rises, carrying each one to You in praise.

From the invisible incense of my soul.

Call me Sir

When I was a young man, I longed to be wiser,
when others would take me seriously, an increase in authority,
power I guess.

Now, I am older, a lot older, and others hold the door open,
call me “Sir”,
but I am more unhappy than ever about it.
For now the “sir” is with a little s,
infected with frailty,
“I’ve fallen and can’t get up” ads,
AARP cards land like AOL CDs in the 80s,
and most recently email deals on burial plots!

The inflection in the voice is now what I listen for,
Not the word “sir”.
Then I can tell, whether it’s fear, respect, love, sympathy,
or some combination of all in the verbal cocktail just delivered.
Yet, suddenly I realize, this does not matter but a jot.

For I am alive and God is watching over me.

I was once terrified,
scared of heights and falling into an endless abyss.
Even the ride up the mountain grew fear inside me,
until eventually, I stood over the slope
aptly called Angel Street,
as friends shouted cries of delight
heading towards the icy steeps that lay below.

Poles waved and edges screeched
a non-slow motion movie with all the sound effects
of a skier concentrating,
on that edge of fear and excitement,
where fear has lost to courage.

Meanwhile, I remain transfixed watching them go.

Until at last it was me,
just me alone.
The last skier disappeared from view
now invisible to me, as the wind blast on my face gave me one more reason to worry.
Only one way down now.
I went.

Suddenly, I found myself, leaning out,
embracing the steepness of the slope,
ice and all, with the rhythm of a dancer.
My skis were full of traction as if mesmerized,
not just controlling my speed, but bouncing with merriment as if alive.

My spirit was lifted, as I realized I was not alone out here in nature,
making an icy slope something of beauty
to be enjoyed, savored and enveloped.
Do I now have a new strength, confidence, skill?
No, rather, God is with me, and that is all.

Making me not just use my learnings, but be at one with them … and Him.

Yesterday is full of regrets, happy memories,
photo albums, missives and broken electronics.
All mixed up in a book called past,
which keeps growing into a multi-volume set.

There is a reason the rear view mirror is small, and objects appear even smaller.

The Dog has It

 

There is no yesterday in my life,

every moment is just a tail wagging opportunity

to please my master.

 

I live in the now, not yesterday,

dunno what tomorrow is, and don’t care.

Providing my master and family is happy with me. That’s it.

Love is all I care about; except a little food,

which I need just to love anyway,

as being hungry distracts me from my main job. Love … right now.

 

Did I mention I love you all.

Life giving nourishment, cooling, refreshing,
quenching thirst like no other.
Here is trickles down a needy throat,
Each drop a measure of ecstasy,
and thankfulness.

I AM refreshed and beholden.

Gospel of John
“Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again;
but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst;
the water I shall give will become in him
a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

This song is from a musical under development, and is about the father in the Prodigal Son story lamenting the loss of his son. To play the mp3 click the link below …

Where Did I Go Wrong

If I sell my brother to another for twenty pieces of silver,

what good can come of it?

For it’s not my brother I am selling, but my soul,

he is but currency, and now I am chattel.

 

And my soul remains priceless.

 

 

 

Book of Genesis

“They sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver.”