Monthly Archives: May 2021

Storylines

I said, "The balance in my checking
account has reached a new high."

She replied, "Remember: narratives
of aggregates always serve wealth."

I agreed.  "I am aware of the different
storylines used by the storytellers."

She added, "And the layers of power,
hidden from most, continue to pull
the children from their families."

I asked, "What is the history in my 
particular landscape that tells where 
I am today?"

She answered, "You were the minority
when you arrived and, luckily, it turned 
out fine for you."

Then two she-bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys. – 2 Kings 2:24

Lover of all,
who sends the rain and the sun
and the shine of the stars
and the bears out of the woods,
define "love" or "Love";
for some would consider a mauling
a "loving" act for wanton name-calling
against your anointed prophet
and others, horrified, denounce
your creation crying, There is no love.
Amen.

Chicago, May 2021

I stare at a picture of the great metalled Ferris wheel 
from the 1893 Chicago World's Fair and lose myself 
in the number of people who went for a spin so long ago.

Fifty years later, Picasso, stares into the cave
of Lascaux and, upon seeing the dancing animals
painted on the walls, declares, They've invented everything.

And what about all the children that died 
before the age of five or the mothers that died 
in childbirth before the miracles of modern medicine?

Is there nothing so distinctly sweet,
so sweet,
as real bananas picked from the Peruvian 
rainforest an hour before breakfast?

There I stand in a picture from seven years ago with my arms around a daughter who no longer exists. That she lives in my memory, yes.  And in some form of a heavenly afterlife, perhaps.  

Sometimes I pause, 
shake my hands and arms in the air, 
convulsively, 
and grin from ear to ear.  

I am mindful 
of the number of times 
I have returned 
from wherever 
I have gone.  
Many have not.

The Knuckle-ball Pitch

I said, "Even the knuckle-ball
can be a home run pitch."

She said, "Opening day was
eons ago and besides, both sides
play with the same number of players."

Thinking ahead, I asked, "But how
many truly get caught up in the
spirit of the game?"

She added, "Especially when 
translating x's and o's all day
leads to exhaustion."

I agreed.  "All relationship appears
to have been removed from any
sense of play."

She said, "Circles of trust always form
when a team's origin story enters
the picture."

meditation overheard

captured in this enfleshed entanglement
negotiating pathways in search of clear air
receiving mystery from beyond what is known
into the open space that surrounds deep heart
warmly beating again and again and again
passing through the body in all directions
giving fully to be with loved ones before
and yet to come in the spaces that always
dwell in the around of more than just one

Hell(o)

I said, "I accidentally dropped
the "o" from Hello this morning
and created..."

She leaped in, "Stop!  Don't finish!
A little bit of that always goes
a long way."

I asked, "Are you suggesting that we
should do what the soul calls for?"

She replied, "Only if all parties 
recognize that there are three sides
to every argument."

Thinking out loud, I said, "How is talking
about it now seen as a threat?"

"Because," she answered, "change
never comes from the delights
of being comfortable."

But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.” – Acts 2:13

Holy Vine,
Maker and Pourer,
declaring, This, this
is my blood,
dazzle our palate
with a vintage never 
before tasted,
for the sneerers
are sneering at all
that makes life holy,
pointing to create 
doubt in the fantastic
idea that a way
can be The Way;
for the magic
grape buyers
and drinkers of hope
need a sip from 
the Grail once again.
Amen.