Shriveled Alone the man in the wheelchair sat, head bowed bereft of comfort,
Shrunken well beyond what he was in years not so long past,
In a place he would rather not be, a journey he neither desired nor wants,
Yet knowing this is his life what little he has left.
Many "if only-s" run through his head,
Knowing that nothing could now be done
The knot now tied cannot be loosened,
His past is written in stone.
Still he hopes when loved ones appear,
Seeking ways to let them know
That now he understands what his actions put them through
Though words are still hard in coming.
His son walked up and stood before him,
Just like his dad in his younger days
Yet different in the lessons learned
From the wounds his father visited upon him.
The young man looked upon his dad remembering the horrible past,
Then knelt before his father’s chair, and in a low voice said I forgive and understand.
Weeping for the first time in his life, the father clung to his son
Amazed at the gift of live freely given to him, in the mercy shown
on retreat
10.29.06 (2:52 pm) [edit]Been on retreat for the last week, spent the first six days in a hermitage, and the last three in the Monastery. It has been good. I guess one of the reasons that aging is not so bad is that my ability to endure solitude has grown. When I was younger and tried to spend any kind of extended of time alone, I had some real trouble with it. It was like there was this invisible bubble in the middle of the room, and I had to work my way around it, not very comfortable. Now, while it is not always easy, I feel more at home with it, just being before God. Perhaps it is not all age, but God's grace slowly working in my life. I will be here until Tuesday, and then dive back into my life, but I feel refreshed and am looking forward to getting back. I did write a little while on retreat. It will be good to go over my 'musings' and 'rambling' and see what exactly it was that I wrote down. I often just write, without going back over it....it is always interesting to see late just what it was I joted down. The time has gone by very fast, the days merge, so having some notes will be helpful in gleaning what I experienced and learned. Though God's grace really does seem to work in secret, I only see the tip of the iceberg. Still on retreat, so this is brief. Peace Mitch
Joy
10.21.06 (6:19 pm) [edit]
Joy is like the sun on a spring morning
Cool to the skin bringing hope to full bloom,
Winds strong but welcome after a cold winter
The awakening of nature, true balm to the sprit.
Flowers bright in their new young life,
The simplest with beauty beyond telling,
Reaching up to heaven in the simple miracle of being,
Drawing all who pass by into their vibrant happiness.
The green leaves deep with strength,
Filling the air with the music of their singing in their dance with the wind,
Birds joining in themselves bringing forth new life in abundance,
Filling the earth with their song, untiring in their singing.
Life offers much joy, deep, enduring, healing in its intensity,
That the suffering and hardships cannot touch,
If only the heart is diligent to simply what is before it
Thankful for the gift of life, fleeting at times, difficult, yet worth it.
Joy ever present no matter the season,
Each moment has something to offer,
Though at times in the darkness of suffering, and loss, it seems to abandon,
Yet it is always with us in the depths of the human heart, slowly rising to new life.
Hidden
10.21.06 (8:31 am) [edit]
Failure weighs heavy on those who strive,
Weakness apparent to those seeking to be strong,
Those who love, know of their hidden struggle with hate,
The gentle alone often know of rage unseen,
Ones blessed with compassion know of emptiness,
Stretched to the limit feeling brittle and dry.
To seek,
The experience of being lost is needed,
To give,
The need to receive is also present,
Love is also based on give and take,
If it is to grow.
Freedom is the hardest road of all,
Often found by ways forgotten or unknown,
The way of paradox, often mocked or just ignored.
Yes also of death to ways known to lead no-where,
Leading to the loosening of chains burdensome, constraining,
No longer having the power to imprison.
The past eats us,
Future fears can paralyze,
Blocking ways to experience the present
Where freedom lays hidden waiting to be found.
The way hard but simple,
A life stripped of many of our self imposed burdens, and fears.
Depth within, something all have.
Bottomless,
Waiting to be filled and healed
By what can only give freely.
That which we crave above all else,
Hidden from many, even denied, but there nonetheless.
Three friends out to dinner
10.20.06 (8:59 am) [edit]
Three friends out to dinner on a warm fall evening,
Work mates seeking company in a different milieu,
Putting the daily grind behind, and just being in each others company,
Eating, drinking, and laughing up a storm, taking about everything and anything.
Funny situations from the past,
Movies,
Yes also about work,
Each brings out laughter loud and pure.
Ordering enough for six and not just three,
The table full to overflowing with beautiful Cuisine,
Sushi of all kinds, rolls larger than thought,
Sake, one cold, the other warm, and yes wine for one.
Spicy rolls causing burning pain and hilarity,
Causing two to ask for a coke and a sprite
To wash away the heat, causing faces to flush,
The other seeing no problem being Tabasco trained.
All in all a lovely evening,
An oasis of sorts with friends
Allowing each to be them selves
To be silly, funny, with childlike joy in life.
Bob
10.19.06 (8:19 am) [edit]
Bob is in moving into his late 80’s, doing ok, but along with his aphasia he is starting to get more confused. He does not have Alzheimer’s, but his confusion seems to becoming more and more a permanent state. Add to this his inability to communicate what he wants into the equation, and you get a fair amount of frustration for him on a daily basis. He sometimes gets worried that he has a doctor’s appointment in town, and will obsess over it, until we can convince him that he does have an appointment. He is on the home bound program set up by the VA, so nurses, and if needed a doctor, will come out and see him when needed. He may have one visit to a doctor in town once a year, if that. We even have a dentist come in to take care of those for whom travel would be a complication.
We have also put an alarm on his mattress to alert us if he tries to get out of bed. He needs help in doing any kind of walking, and has already had a number of falls. One which fractured his hip, and had to have a pin put in. He also tires easily during the day which leads to lengthy napping. Also if he sits up for extended periods his blood pressure drops, so the problem is not easily rectified. He has to be put into bed when this happens, since fainting could result from the blood pressured dropping. So it can be hard to have him set up for long periods of time. He is also very thin and sitting up can lead to skin problems around the hip area, another situation that has to be dealt with. Each case is unique, and so as time moves on, we will have to decide when it is time to give him some stronger meds to help him sleep at night, which could make things a little easier, and perhaps less confusing for him. What could evolve is Bob sleeping most of the day, and then staying up all night, becoming restless and needing a great deal of attention.
He eats well, and is often in good spirits. His highly developed sense of humor helps him to cope, and gives us a way to lighten some of the situations we can all get into with him. He sometimes tries to communicate some problem he is having, but simply can’t. When this happens, and he sees a certain look on the faces of those who take care of him, he simply laughs, which goes a long way in reliving some of the stress he is under. He does trust us, so he has the ability to believe for the most part what we tell him, though it may take a little time. Hopefully it will never happen that he gets lost in his own world, making it impossible for him to believe or to trust us. A very painful situation for all involved.
He will sometimes think when he is brought to the breakfast table that he has already eaten, and taken his meds, so he will at first refuse to eat. If we don’t exert pressure on him, but try to calmly explain that he has not had breakfast yet, and needs to take his meds, after awhile, he usually comes around. He is underweight so it is important to have him eat all of his meals everyday.
He is a very quiet man, and seldom makes a fuss that will cause a disturbance on the floor. He is soft spoken, and gentle, for the majority of the time, but like most humans he does have a stubborn streak that will shine through once in awhile. Which is fine, having a stubborn streak has its positive side, it does cause him to speak up, and putting his heels in can make us stop and listen more attentively.
We each slowly get backed into a corner as we age, his corner is getting smaller, but all in all he is adapting well, and hopefully he will continue to trust that we have his good at heart.
Taking a chance
10.18.06 (6:10 pm) [edit]
I tend to be adventurous when it comes to food. If I see something on the menu that I have not had before, or even heard of, I tend to order it. I have seldom been disappointed when I take a chance and do it. I remember the first time I went to a Japanese restaurant with some friends. They told me that I had to try Sushi, raw fish, and at first I was not too keen on the idea. So we went to our table and I looked at the menu. I saw all kinds of dishes that I have never heard of, so decided to dive in and order some Sea Urchin, over seaweed and rice. But first, I had to try the Sushi. My friends ordered for me, since I had no idea what to get. They ordered the Tuna, White Fish, Octopus, and shrimp, which was slightly cooked, but all the others were raw.
First of Sushi is beautiful to look at, in fact it is considered an art, so the presentation is always beautiful. My first bite was ok, and I had four pieces but did not want any more, raw fish is very rich, and for a beginner, at least for me, I filled up quickly. Then the Sea Urchin came, and while I can’t describe the taste, it was good; it in no way tasted like chicken. I also had Sake for the first time, which was an interesting experience for me. Very clean to the taste and dry, which is how I like my wine. We had it cold. I later had Sake warm on my second trip, a totally different experience, it tasted buttery to me, so I prefer it cold. Also rice wine, which is what Sake is, does not affect me the way grape wine does. I can usually only drink one glass of dry wine with a meal, but I found the I can drink up to three glasses of Sake without any side affects at all. I think it is good to try new things when going out to eat, not just meat and potatoes for me.
Garden walk
10.17.06 (6:47 pm) [edit]
No one knows how much better Leo will get, but today he seemed to show some improvement. He was also able to talk coherently upon awakening, for a longer period of time than what had up to that point been the norm for him. He got restless about mid-morning, and it was decided to try to take him for a longer walk than usual. So he was prepared, and we went for a stroll together. A belt was placed around his waist, something to hold on to in case he should lose his balance while walking, and needed to be steadied. Took him down stairs to see the garden, which he seemed to delight in, also around to the gold fish pond, which is near the center of the garden. For him it was like the first time, since his memory is pretty much gone south. So I guess he lives in a world where everything is for the most part, new. He seemed to be able to get glimmers of memories past, and when that happened he became very excited, and tried to tell me that he remembered something about the area that we walked around in for awhile. He would point, and then try to say something, expressing to me about how he has seen this before. He had a strong memory for some reason, for one of the trees that was in the corner of the garden, and for him it seemed like a revelation.
As the walked continued, my thoughts went back to just a few months ago when he was able to walk around on his own, and he could be taken out to a restaurant to eat. He has slid fast in the last few months. Perhaps he will slowly gain back some ground, but there is doubt he will be able to get back where he was before.
He is slowly getting stronger, which can be a two edge sword if he starts to try leaving the unit here. William is already doing that, and it can be a full time job just explaining to him why he can’t go home. Or trying to convince him that he is not in New Jersey anymore; and finally that his parents, who have been dead over 30 years, are not downstairs waiting for him. When your short term memory is about 45 seconds in duration you need a lot of explaining, over and over again. Having two patients on the floor who need that kind of attention could get just a tad frustrating. However it would be good for him to get better and we all would be happy about that. Frustration is part of the job, so it would be worth it if he did get better.
One of the great things about being a caregiver, who takes care of people long term, is that the humanity of those taken care of is never lost. The gradual decline into dementia does not lessen the essential relationship that develops over long years of care. There is a bond that is formed that is very deep, sometimes frustrating, but is based on a deep acceptance of the one being taken care of. We see our charges at their best and worst, and this brings about a closeness that is rewarding, just as much as it can be trying.
Sometimes people approach caregivers and state how they could never do their job. I think if these people would visit nursing homes, and strike up a friendship with a resident that is on going, they would start to understand. The humanity of the one being taken care of is never lost, no matter how long the journey, the bond lasts. That is why for many caregivers, is a real blessing when they can be with the one they have spent years taking of care finally breath their last. Sitting with them, holding their hand and praying is a way to have closure, being able to say goodbye, and simply letting them go.
Some people think the role caregivers have is parental, but I don’t believe that. I think that is true for children taken care of their parents, since there is a role reversal. For me I think it is a form of friendship where the one taken care of, can be them selves, no matter how that is manifested, and they are accepted with compassion and understanding, it goes with the job. There are parental elements of course, but I don’t think that is central, at least from the limited experience that I have had.
Of course caregivers can also at times not be in top form, and then it is time for those being taken care to be understanding, which happens more often than many would think. There is always a give and take on both sides.
10.16.06 (10:23 am) [edit]
The mosaic
I had a great walk this morning. I awoke at 1:30, and knowing I would not be able to go back to sleep, got up, felt the cold coming in through my open windows, put on a light jacket and went downstairs. First stop, coffee, hot, mixed with a little creamer and sugar, my first cup, then after that, all my other cups I have black. I love making coffee in the quiet of the early morning hours; I find the ritual soothing. The sound of water running, the opening of the coffee bag, the sound of the coffee grounds hitting the filter, pouring the water, and then sitting, and listening to the musical sound of the new beverage filling the glass pot, such a simple ritual, but one I never tire of. As the years pass I am beginning to find joy in the most mundane tasks, perhaps becoming more mindful is a natural part of maturing.
Out the door into the embrace of the early morning cold that is always a pleasant shock, clearing out any cobwebs that still linger in my not all together awake mind. I love the cold. I love it when my skin tingles, when the cold seeps down to the bone. I love to breathe deeply of the frigid air, allowing it to fill my lungs, deep, long, drawn out breaths, that do a much better job than coffee in waking me up. However as I get older I find this slowly changing. The heat does not bother me as much as it did in years past, and little by little I need more insulation from the cold, a trade off I guess. Living in Georgia with its very hot summers, I suppose it is good to have my tolerance for heat improving.
The first thing I always do is to lean back and look up at the sky. The night sky in the fall season is so clear, the stars so easy to see that I almost feel like I am falling into them when I look up, not an unpleasant feeling actually. This morning there where some low lying clouds that only made the sky more beautiful and restful to gaze upon, allowing peace to fill my soul. It seems it is the simple things that touch me the most deeply, uncomplicated straight forward; one of the gifts of aging I guess.
It was very quiet this morning, no crickets singing, something I missed. No planes overhead and of course very few cars racing by on the state road that runs by the place. Only a few deer, I could hear them snorting at me, some running off, others used to me by now with my early morning wanderings, knowing that I am minding my own business, and not a threat to them. No chorus of coyotes to accompany my stroll, which I missed. No wind, only the deep cold, allowing me to breathe freely, without the suffocating heat.
As I walked I thought of all the people I have known; not on an individual basis of course, impossible, too many people have entered and left my life. Some I have known deeply, others briefly, and still others I have known only for minutes, or perhaps seconds. Meeting people in airports, in the Navy, those from my schools days all jumbled together in a mosaic that I mediated upon. In moments like these I feel that I am participating more fully in God’s eternal moment, where all things happen as one, past and present simply there for me to contemplate on. Even the future seems to intrude, since in God’s moment, the future, like the past and present are one. In moments like these I tend to gather up all those I have known, no matter how slight, and those whom I will come to know, again no matter how slightly, and simply place them before the Father’s love. Each known and loved in an infinite manner, each important to the mystery that we call God, each life hidden, seen fully by the eternal one, who perhaps is the only one who can make sense of it all. I guess we are all the center of an every larger web of relationships. Connections we are not often conscious of, but there none the less.
In the human heart we carry all those we love, know, have known, and will know, and our prayer reaches all of them. We are not meant to be alone. Solitude does not mean aloneness, separation, or isolation….. it is just a deeper form of communion.
Connections, deep and enduring, even if we are not always conscious of that fact, is a reality something always with us. A burden for some, a joy for others; for most perhaps a mixture of both, a source of joy and suffering, giving depth to life’s experience. Our relationship with God and one another, is richer and deeper than we can ever know, connecting us all in ways that will no doubt astound us when it is all made clear.
It is impossible to be truly alone, though to be isolated, and alienated, is something sad to say, only too common.
A boyhood memory from Panama
10.15.06 (9:42 am) [edit]
A bus on a Friday afternoon
Filled with tired workers eager to get home,
People quiet with their own thoughts
Either ignoring or enduring one another.
Three boys get on with high spirits,
The silence unbroken by those who inwardly groan
Only wanting some peace before they get home
With their endless chores a-waiting.
The three get the only empty seat,
Sensing the mood attempting quiet
But to no avail,
Such are boys when 12 years old.
One boy leans over and tells a joke
A snicker follows then a snort,
And evolves into a sharp laugh
Getting ssshhhhhh’s from the others.
Quiet comes for a second or less
When such a guraff came forth,
Like Goofy from Walt Disney
Suddenly inhabited the boy.
The other two joined in the laughter,
The adults tired, tried to fight it,
But one by one feel victim to the virus,
That slowly, and then, more quickly spread
The whole bus burst forth into laughter
Such a sound, loud, alive, and joyful,
Just laughing because of the laughter
Of a 12 year old boy.
The driver had to pull over blinded by tears,
Bending over laughing and gasping for air,
Trying to stop he had a route to finish
But he gave in to the hilarity without much fight.
It stopped once and the bus quieted,
Then someone snicker and it began again,
Louder perhaps than before
Each person a joyful member of the choir.
Three time in all the chorus stopped and then continued,
Just simple laughter
That took all by surprise
By the simple laughter of a 12 year old boy.
No one exempt
10.14.06 (7:26 pm) [edit]The journey long and rough, no one exempt,
Suffering aplenty, worry deep, tears enough to wade in,
Is the path trod by all, the rich, poor, good, and evil,
All must pass through the fire and experience of existence.
There is joy along the way, as well as love,
The embrace priceless in its intensity and depth,
The joy of friends, children, food, literature and music,
Lighten the burden of the pilgrimage we are all on.
Yet nothing fills the inner longing or thirst,
Our restless sprits seeking always more, going deeper,
Driven by the inner desire for what we cannot own,
Yet seeking someway to pay the price of entrance.
The place of peace, oneness, where the sprit finds its home,
Free from the desert of urgent longings unfulfilled,
Release from inner pain, and loneliness, that drives to distraction,
Seeking that which will take away the inner pain of infinite thirst.
Time enough
10.14.06 (9:12 am) [edit]Dreamlike our lives wind down,
The years long past race by hardly noticed,
So quick their passing decades adding up,
Most forgotten buried deep in unending slumber.
The burden carried no longer felt, the chains we wear unnoticed.
So our lives continue in pretending that time enough is ours,
As the days allotted near completion,
Standing naked before God the whole while,
An open book nothing hidden,
Such is our hope in infinite Mercy.
Age leads us where we would rather not go,
Our strength stripped away,
Sleep and pleasure elude us,
Unlike in our younger days
When all was for granted taken.
Grace calls us inward as the world slowly dims,
God’s love enfolds us in more intimate ways,
Letting go is not an option though fight it if we desire,
In the end however death wins out
Forcing us through the dark door.
Where does the exit of life lead?
A birth to something more,
Moving from one womb to another larger one?
Faith says one thing, doubt another,
We choose which to follow.
Drunken mind
10.13.06 (8:18 am) [edit]
Sometimes my mind is like a holler monkey on weed,
Swinging from branch to branch,
Looping here, and then there,
With no direction in mind
At others my thoughts are centered and at peace,
Focused on the path staying,
Thinking deep thoughts
That we all have from time to time.
At times my body agitated
Refusing rest seeking it knows not what,
Something other drawing it down frantic paths of useless activity,
In the end wasted energy leading to fatigue.
Still there are times when my body is contented
Seeking on what is in the moment,
Sensing grace in all that is done
Open to restful contemplation.
There are days when my heart is at peace,
Flowing with love and empathy for others
Seeing only good,
At peace with solitude.
Then storms come and my heart is filled with fire,
Rage and anger seem to split it apart,
Blind to others and their needs,
The struggle deep to stay centered and on the path.
At peace or conflict, at rest or frantic,
The center holds
The embrace open,
The invitation never withdrawn.
True rest sought hopefully one day to be found.
Our need
10.11.06 (10:47 am) [edit]
Like an arrow with razor sharp barb,
Does love pierce the heart uninvited
Causing to surface both joy and pain,
The world no more seen in different shades of grey
Colors sensual and deep,
Reds as bright as blood,
Gold more intense than the sun,
The darkest black bleak with despair.
Such are gifts love bestows on us.
The pain of lovers,
Anguish of parents,
Concern of friends,
Also have times of joy starving off loneliness.
Love gives heat to life
Allowing others to bath in its warmth
Spreading outward to others it’s healing power.
Allowing healing and compassion to flower
The doors of our inner prison flung open.
Life without pain, is just as empty as life without joy,
Both needed in the dance, the pilgrimage we are on.
Struggle, choice, endings and beginnings,
Another gift love bestows.
Love brings to mind our need,
Forcing choices to be made
That either lead to deeper consummation
Or to endings that bring back the grey lonely coldness.
Cycles end, or if not they become eternal, a prison without bars
The ordinary
10.10.06 (11:21 am) [edit]
The beauty of a bare limb against the sky,
Its shadowlike form a thing of elegance true,
The gentle sound of wind among the trees
Whispering softy its gentle hymn of peace,
The beauty of clouds their shapes fleeting
Though their beauty intense,
The play of children laughing in delight
Their joy bringing forth smiles on those who hear them,
The gentle smile of an old man or woman,
Loving and wise giving their benediction to those around them,
Hot tea on a cold afternoon,
Or a good book and hot chocolate on a rainy day,
Cloudy days with strong winds causing leaves to dance,
Fond memories of things past,
The love of friends where one can simply be themselves,
Such are just a few of the simple joys making up life,
Ordinary though they be,
Their importance often overlooked in the trials of life.
The everydayness of things can become an oasis,
A resting place for the weary,
For beauty can refresh us in ways that nothing else can,
It is what we in the end are made for,
Love and beauty, often perhaps the same,
Beauty being the expression of love,
Allowing the heart to open, even if for a short time only,
That for instant makes us forget our burdens.
Deepening our sorrow
10.09.06 (10:31 am) [edit]
Oneness hidden yet true,
Wounding others we wound ourselves.
Lack of understanding
Only deepening our sorrow.
An endless cycle like the rings of hell.
Self laceration the fruit of hatred,
The suffering self inflicted as others are struck down.
Seeking relief in hatred and revenge,
Is as futile as a thirsty man drinking dust,
The man seeking peace through revenge and contempt is forever lost.
The touch of strangers
10.08.06 (8:40 am) [edit] 
She walked in pushing a wheelchair slowly,
Looking tired and a little worn out,
The man in the chair perhaps her father,
Old, and sickly, his arm in a cast acting confused.
She walked with a slight limp with stingy blond hair,
Her face looked as if she had not smiled in awhile.
Her voice strong and intelligent yet gentle,
Conversing patiently with the man she cared for.
As I observed her from across the room,
Perhaps not really seeing her at all,
But nonetheless my reactions intrigued me,
In the way I was touched by her presence.
Compassion, empathy, and pity are often mixed,
So what I felt I am not sure,
Though I hope it was not pity, a form of benign contempt,
For she deserved better than that, respect, and so much more.
She seemed so lonely in my eyes,
Perhaps this was true, perhaps not,
I just wanted to go and hold her,
Telling her that things would turn out all right.
What I did was nothing, not even a word or a smile,
Not that it would have mattered in any way,
Since I did not know her at all, I was just a stranger in her eyes.
Yet I am often touched by strangers in ways I don’t understand yet wounded still.
Later as I prayed, I held her, and brought her with me before the light,
Praying for all the lonely ones,
The unattractive ones ignored,
Though their souls burn bright.
Perhaps this woman seemingly gentle in her ways,
Shines back on me my own loneliness hidden from view,
Reflected back through her countenance in ways unforeseen,
And in that situation allowing empathy to arise, a sharing of human experience.
Each has something to teach along the pilgrimage we are on,
We all lead each other on the way,
Sometimes the teacher, at others the student,
Interplay in the complexity of human relationship.
Rafts on a raging sea
10.07.06 (10:23 am) [edit]
Emotions rise and fall in the inner world of each,
Strongly felt for good or ill,
Giving pleasure or pain, or perhaps both in an instant,
Like clouds constantly changing from one form to another.
Some like storms, lasting long,
With dark low hanging clouds fearful to see,
Accompanied by loud peals of lighting flashing,
Cymbals of thunderous noise blocking out all else.
Others like spring rains bringing joy and hope,
Filled with thankfulness for simple existence,
Bringing quiet within
Or deep wells of laughter springing from a heart joyful.
Hatred, love, joy and desolation,
Gentle or raging it does not matter,
Each passes from one to another
Tossing us about like rafts on a raging sea.
Peace comes from a place deeper,
A center unmoved by the storms of life,
The still point that is always constant
Even if sometimes hidden from our inner perceptions.
Restful silence allows mindfulness to flower,
Bringing to life an inner calm,
Always present for one who seeks,
Dispelling the illusion of the permanence of each changing state.
It is the observing mind that is real and constant,
The soul made in the divine image,
Rooted in eternity
Often hidden and forgotten in the cycles of life.
10.04.06 (6:02 pm) [edit]
The old couple with silence sat,
Each at peace in the others presence,
Almost one, their love so deep with passion still aflame,
Though hidden behind soft smiles and gentle touches,
Unnoticed by those around them.
The bright flames of passion present in their youth
Now burns deeper and steadier than in younger years.
Tested by years of joy, and pain, and anxiety aplenty,
Yet with love present if not always felt or understood.
Now the flame burns steady its heat a comfort, though intense.
Each knows their time is short
One will go leaving behind emptiness bottomless;
So they treasure the silence as a gift,
Their communion something fought for
That those younger will never understand
Until,
One day they to will sit across from the beloved
In silence,
Hard won, now understanding,
Waiting for one of go and leave the other behind.
Knowing it was all worth it
Are we so different after all?
10.03.06 (7:31 pm) [edit]
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As the years flow, by sometimes gently, sometimes not,
With youth fading whether we desire or fear it,
Wounds received as decades pass, challenging us to respond.
Some become fearful retracting, hiding,
Behind walls of toughness or seeming indifference,
When it is only a cover for fear of what is unjust, and cruel
Others strike out become powerful and in control,
Not caring what others think, what they desire supreme,
Yet just another protection, hiding need within.
There are those who learn compassion from what they experience,
Seeking to reach out and heal in love and forgiveness,
Even if their wounds run red and are deep.
Yet there are those who simply sink,
Allowing the label of victim to give them their identity
Carving out their place in life.
Most perhaps do all of it, at times open,
Yet at others fearful, and withdrawn,
Seeking to find the balance to carry on.
Deeper yet is the image we are all made in,
The childlike nature of God calling us forth to openness,
To embrace the uncertainty of life knowing pilgrims that we are.
Understanding is not something to be found,
Yet life is to be lived with hope that the heart grows tender,
Allowing God’s love to flow through to others.
Are we so different after all?
Love and joy, friendship and belonging speak to us all,
Peace is also sought even if seldom found on life’s journey,
A foretaste given, even if fleeting, a moment treasured above all others.
The deepest heart and what it desires, often hidden,
Covered in layers, in the vain hope of seeking a place of refuge,
Is what is sought after by the divine lover of all.
Billy Joe and Bobby Ray
10.03.06 (8:57 am) [edit]
Billy Joe, and Bobby Ray, were good old boys to the core,
Men well met as far as that went, which was not very far.
With ready smiles but eyes cold as death merciless in their depth;
People gave them both wide berths, for fear of their inner void.
Each carried a rage that smoldered strong,
Seemingly possessed at times with the thirst for violence
That only the sight of blood could quench,
Vampire like in its need to feed off others pain and fear.
Women feared them and fled when they drank late at night,
Men stayed away hoping not to get in their view,
Keeping head down whispering over their drinks
Fearing the pain that would be rained down if they got in their way.
With hearts feed by anger, hate, and white hot rage,
They froze the hearts of those they met into fearful submission,
For power is what fed them
And fear of others their life sustaining food.
They met one night in Jacob’s bar,
Like alpha males they watched the other hatred deep,
Soul mates of the hellish kind,
Bent on each others destruction.
As the night deepened and tension grew,
People became quiet and many fled
Sensing the storm that was brewing,
With only destruction the sure thing.
When midnight struck, Bobby Ray lunged,
Striking swiftly without mercy the one he desired,
To drink fully from the diminishment of his foe
Who dared to be in his presence.
Billy Joe returned in like his eyes alight with darkling joy,
To connect so as to give full vent to his white hot rage,
Cold as an artic night,
Seeking the warmth of another’s blood and pain.
The struggle did not last long in that midnight hour,
Bobby Ray buried a broken bottle in the Billy’s Joe’s body
Twisting it rejoicing in the pain and shame of the one hated,
Until the cold dead light in Billy’s eyes dimmed and went out.
Now Bobby Ray is buried in a cell deep, alone with no one to hurt.
Alone with his rage his hunger all consuming in its need,
With no one to feed upon,
Desiring again Billy’s Joe’s presence for the dance to continue.
To mercy's seat drawn
10.02.06 (11:01 am) [edit]
Light flows where it will
Its radiance there for all to see
Only that which does not want to know
Seeks to hide from the truth shown
Humility is strong based on truth
The beam unrelenting in its force
Based on love showing the way
To mercy's seat drawn
Its radiance there for all to see
Only that which does not want to know
Seeks to hide from the truth shown
Humility is strong based on truth
The beam unrelenting in its force
Based on love showing the way
To mercy's seat drawn
Weary
10.01.06 (9:05 am) [edit]
Weariness at times envelops perception.
The body, mind, and soul,
Depleted of energy,
Simply weary of existence, seeking rest.
Seeking union,
The oneness of oblivion,
No-thing-ness, the void,
Anything to overcome the standing apart.
The earth beckons its arms wide inviting,
Sink into the cold silent earth it sooths,
The darkness of eternal sleep
Where all separation ends.
An illusion,
A drug,
Offering us a lie
Since eternal oblivion is denied us.
We are called to life.