I wanted to leave early,

politely asking to get on the standby list.

“Do you have status” growled the agent,

“I am a person, does that count”, I replied hopefully.

Unamused, she denied me and asked for $75 instead.

 

Leaving the line, I returned again,

This time in hope of a more human response,

But again no was the answer. “You don’t have status, there is nothing I can do”

I enquired “What is status”

It means you are named, (in our database),

Like a precious stone or metal.

Are you Gold?

Are you Silver?

Are you Platinum?

Are you Ruby?

Are you Sapphire?

 

I replied, now dejected at my new found status,

“I am nothing”

 

So I paid up, and found my new found status.

In the eyes of American Airlines.

“Unworthy to even wait”

 

 

Summer is passing by yet again,

Dreamily it seems everyone is happier.

Clothes are reduced by a warm sun,

and the longest kiss on my cheek is felt

by an ocean breeze, happily playing the music of the season.

 

 

The warmth will soon be gone;

However a perfect oneness remains.

 

Inhaling life deeply,

creates a rush of energy and oxygen to the brain,

stimulating all aspects of the mind and heart,

fulfilling the desires of new experience and the wisdom therein.

 

Till we reach the new resting place,

and gather our wind for the next episode.

 

The computer cropped my banal photograph,

taken in a glorious moment of idleness,

the evening before.

 

Who is it who decides an image is meaningless?

just a set of pixels or spots for our eyes and God to make useful.

Certainly not I, as this image,

Hidden in a bigger image,

Now means something to me the following morning.

 

Dormant for weeks,

Unused by me, and probably others,

It remains a communication tool on a desk,

No longer used for that purpose,

Rather, now a decorative item.

Reminding us of times gone by.

 

When conversations caused us to talk and listen,

By its mere location.

Obscuration can start as a strategy,

or an end in itself.

Maybe to hide intention,

It often starts with a foggy window,

limiting delivery of the truth,

ready to collect dirt,

Until, purposefully,

it becomes not a window,

but an image in itself.

 

Hiding all beyond it,

Making others stop short of their destinations.

 

Without knowing what is beyond.

 

 

 

 

Some of us can be happy with clutter,

even knowing we should tidy it up,

yet leaving it for the Springtime or other such procrastination.

 

How does nature deal with clutter?

Seems like it just absorbs it,

changing it beautifully into something God intended,

without worry,

or self-examination,

or tension.

 

Turning chaos into peace.

 

Understanding is not reasoning of the mind,

In fact it only leads to conflict and judgment.

To take up of positions of the heart,

much firmer than those of scientific or man-made rationality.

 

Over time, these become as immovable as a mountain,

fixed in place, so others have to go round them,

Or recognize, “do you see that mountain up ahead?”

 

Let my understanding become of the heart.

 

Where positions and events are just that.

Waypoints on a soul’s journey through life.

 

 

Gingerly we move together on a sometimes wobbly road of love.

Careful not to knock each other off,

looking ahead and noticing ever-increasing love balance us

Year after year.

 

Sitting quietly in the Boston apartment,

the need for life giving water is never considered,

Just assumed.
In harmony, seemingly, with nature.

The dam holds the needs of thousands,

Bottled up, collecting the gift of life,

One drop at a time.

 

Our need for living water being insatiable,

As love should be.

Alterations are a daily chore.

Call this person, visit the other, and follow up,

get to work, deliver this document, put that one on the calendar.

 

Each activity making a slight alteration in what could have been,

Making a day more complete or less so.

For what purpose?

Survival or routine;

servanthood or servitude?

 

Some alterations take years, but are worth it; such as moving closer to God.