It’s OK

It’s OK to be gay,

It’s OK to be mad when someone wrongs you,

It’s OK to love someone, even when they don’t love you back.

It’s OK to see me for what I am,

It’s OK to be me,

It’s OK to want to kiss and hold me tenderly,

Even when I don’t deserve it.

It’s OK.

A Thin Place

Converging like a photograph I thought was good when taken,

We cannot find this expected place in the world. Now.

Observed as something to be holy,

Our eyes see it but we cannot record it.

The pixels don’t show its glory,

Just two dimensions,

When four were present.

Looking at a reminder, now disappointed.

But then others, which seemed bland,

Now excite my senses,

Revealing what is needed,

And showing me where I should be going.

Or where I’ve been.

At last, a glimpse is here,

This slight separation,

Between heaven and earth,

As God shines on this holy place.

For me to receive the photograph of His holiness.

So suddenly, I discover all places are holy.

Compression

Time and events rush and halt at the Stop sign of today.

Waiting for me to notice the traffic

Moving around me.

 

All those events are stopped in the now

Behind me.

Waiting for me to notice and understand them better.

Hundreds and Thousands

All of people I have met are suddenly at the door,

Not crowded,

Just patiently waiting their turn,

Not judging,

Just seem pleased to have met me.

I wonder if I did what God expected of me

When I met them,

Greeted and talked,

Provided counsel or peace to their life.

Or upset them in some way.

I wonder.

The Disappearing Past

Each event, the pouring of a coffee in Mundelein,

The nurse’s soothing touch on my father’s arm,

The first “I love you” heard,

Passing a driving test,

All merge into one.

There is no remembrance,

Just a return to the earlier part of the day,

Unseparated from now,

United by God,

Per His original design.

As angels, the spirit and soul are now free

Of Time and Space,

Limitless, Eternal.

So is now the traffic jam of my mind,

Cluttered with beauty and events.

No longer separated.

Multi grain bread

So many seeds from all over.

Taken to the mill together,

But not all ground into flour.

We sit with our personalities

In this loaf of life

Nearby each other …

Waiting for someone to enjoy

The multi-grain community we have created

In God’s green earth.

Spillage

Waking again I am handed an immensely full glass of water,

Surface tension being on the only reason it does not spill

Automatically.

 

Now, this day, like many before it,

I am forced to wash, dress, walk,

Do all tasks with this water glass in my hand.

 


Everyone seems to be watching,

Not my every move,

But whether I will spill it again … in my latest endeavor.

 

Please take this glass from me,

so I may tie my shoelaces

And proceed with the day in peace.

 

The Gossip Extinguisher

 

 

Safely tucked in my pocket

Warm and safe from sight

Lies the device.

I haven’t used it for a while now,

Even though the unit keeps shocking my heart

As if some action should take place.

But I would rather just listen.

So gradually the emails start rolling in

Text messages,

Even voice mails, if anyone knows what they are any more.

Filling the device to overflow.

Soon I won’t be able to hear any more gossip at all,

Unless I do something.

Perhaps I should turn it off,

Or even destroy it,

Tuning out the channel.

Forever.