Author: Michael J. Cunningham

The Iceberg

Waiting, no … languishing on the beach

My gaze is towards the town, replete with sounds and smells of summer hustle and bustle.

Then suddenly, a shout comes from afar.

“Get the camera! … Can’t you see the iceberg?”

 

A short turn of the head and sure as eggs, she stands there magnificent,

Breaking the summer New England landscape with glorious colors.

Purples, azure blues, frosty whites, all fitted perfectly into their suits,

Those crevices, sharpened as if by chisels of an artist, escaped from all prior shackles. Beauty is blue.

 

“Go get the camera now”, repeats the messenger, with more urgency.

Running to the bag, wondering if I have the right lens on,

But more concerned about the growing butterflies in my stomach,

For my witness of this beautiful, freak of nature. Solitude and wonder envelop me.

 

Automatically, images are swallowed by a hungry sensor,

Colors, shapes, waves breaking, the pictures keep coming.

Transfixed, but yet moving, I find new positions for what must have been an age.

Until awoken by a wetness, now knee deep, the tide and nature talk to me.

I have enough pictures now.

 

Now satisfied, drenched and full of consolation, I see the car.

Still parked on the beach, now waist deep in water,

Awaiting patiently for me where I left her earlier. On the sand.

 

But I have the pictures.  And inner peace.

It Happened Today-Reprise

 

Not just a photo locked in time,

It happened today.

There was no movie reel to return to,

Not a memory exactly,

Certainly no fragment to be savored,

But the real thing.

 

Suddenly; the past is no more.

Well, technically, it is, but you know,

That just something we say,

Because it helps others relate to it.

Otherwise they think we are crazy.

Because we can only “interact” with the now. Or so it seems.

 

Yet it is not so anymore.

There are no yesterdays, or tomorrows, or even today.

Just being. That’s it.

The real discovery, is it happened today.

Sonja Kristina had a better explanation; the soul giving out.

 

More than awareness, the past is alive, it is sacred.

Each moment captured as if it just happened,

Not recollection, but instant reflections, fused into eternity.

So this time can be replayed, step by step, smell by smell, taste by taste.

Savoring my being, this unfathomable gift from God.

 

So now all that is left is feeling.

Feeling all the love, the disappointments, the many continuous returns of the Prodigal.

Continually replayed until fully accepted, then swallowed.

Leaving the remnants of my existence,

Now spread like photos on the kitchen table.

 

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The Gifts

They surround me like shards of light and warmth,

A Christmas morning every day,

Presents, gifts, love and the unending presence of Christ,

Sitting amongst us.

Peacefully.

 

Today, I will take all these gifts with me,

Stored up in my soul, remembered in my mind,

As I walk through a day of thanksgiving,

Which should remain with me always.

 

As I remain in You.

Unexpected reaction

The shop owner was showing all the signs of another dispute.

The part I purchased did not work at all,

At least in the way I expected.

The “defense” letter arrived,

Part is working as designed. Must be your house that’s the problem.

 

Drawing breadth, I composed my response.

Holding back my real feelings of anger,

I outlined why I thought this was unfair, thanked them for trying,

But I just needed by money back.

And my peace again.

 

Within what seemed like moments the response came.

Yes, you can have your money back.

Thank You for your patience.

Perhaps I can continue to investigate and find out what the problem is.

Words of delight to my eyes.

 

Sometimes, we really do reap what we sow.

The unexpected arrives as our reward.

The Peaks and the Valleys

Resting, motionless, physically at the end of the day,

I see the hours just past,

Their peaks, clear from the sun soaked slopes,

Obvious to me as I reflect on my day with humanity.

 

Silently I congratulate myself on the wins,

A gleaming landscape viewed from afar,

Not focused on the detail,

But rather the result.

 

Then, suddenly, a twinge of the soul,

Piques my interest, not in a good way.

The shadows and valleys are teaming with others,

Unnoticed by me with my wide angle lens.

 

The shade blinds me temporarily,

But if I squint and ignore the mountaintop,

I can see a farmer ploughing,

Someone swimming in the river. A shopper just buying.

 

All I need to do is pause and notice.