Monthly Archives: March 2025

Sonnet of Mercy

"All require mercy, for all are held captive by imaginations of violence." - Brian J. Walsh

While out walking as the evening sky turned darker,
I heard a cry, a cry for mercy, a cry for mercy on all of us,
coming from behind the fence of a reluctant neighbor.
We all require mercy.  What else could give hope to
the constant undoing of everything we set ourselves to do?
There is an old war in the ground upon which we stand;
a revolution started by the distant gods we created long ago.
The gods believed in a universe where only so much spirit
could be held in the palms of their outstretched hands
such that humanity once again came up short 
when the divine distribution of delight unfolded in time.
They never counted on the opening of daffodils 
generating spirit enough, not only for the blossoming day,
but for all who take the time to witness the new birth.

Already Known

I said, "The hummingbird will return soon
in search of the nectar for something
that holds it together."

She said, "To prevent myself from dissolving 
into one million hungry pursuits
I focus on finding a slant of detachment."

I said, "Go ahead and resist
defining anyone with your own set of rules
smashing them into a round hole."

She said, "Thank you for not beating me
over the head with any fancy collection
of dogma that discourages encounters."

I said, "You're welcome.  I prefer having
concern rather than creating a drama
around another person's narrative."

She said, "Such a kind apologetic
leans more toward the aesthetic
than fitting any logic already known."

Waiting for It

I overheard a gentle comment
while I waited for the next part
of my life to begin:

"Sometimes it is in the waiting."

My expectation increased as I hoped
for an explanation of "it."  There was none.

What is "it?"
I could only guess.
A better life?
Romance?
A purer delight?

Then my fear took over.
What if I waited for "it" wrong?

Or those who were killed…

Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them..." - Luke 13:4

Or those 59 who were killed
in a nightclub fire in Macedonia.
Or those 227,898 who were killed 
when the Indian Ocean roared.
Or those 6,000,000 and millions more who were killed 
when the whim of Hitler ruled.
Or the 1 of many who was killed 
when Attila or Alexander swept across the plains.
It is not possible to think of them all
taken too early by war, famine, and disease,
taken by catastrophe, human error, and God's-error.
Is "taken" the right word for the death of numbers?
If so, who takes?  
And, who receives?

Lottery Numbers

I said, "Someone won 
the lottery yesterday
and it wasn't me."

She asked, "And how do you feel
about failing the arduous endeavor
of picking the wrong numbers?"

I asked, "Would it have been too difficult
for the Creator to shape a world where
we could predict the future?"

She answered, "Then everyone
would have all the numbers 
and no one would win."

I said, "So then I should go about
visiting the temple of Delphi
to receive an oracle of victory?"

She said, "Those temples of prediction
have been closed since the priestesses
left to join the workforce."

Lengthen – A Short Lenten Meditation

The shadows of trees lengthen on the church lawn
as the sun settles behind the horizon.
Did Jesus know how his short time on the cross
would lengthen into the days and nights of history?
The nails hammered into His hands need to be lengthened
to allow Christ's arms to embrace the whole world.
Lengthening the time spent in prayer in the hope
of galvanizing God's will to your own is not required.
God the Creator already lengthened creation
and does not need to be invoked to do more work.
My daughters asked, "How much longer?" as if the asking
would lengthen their desire for a shorter trip.
I replied, "Not much longer," knowing our time 
together would lengthen into eternity.

“Thank you for being a valued member of…”

I, like everyone else, like to belong;
to be valued and to add value to a community
of similarly-minded individuals who gather
in groups for purposes mundane and spiritual.
The stars come together across the sky;
visible at night, always present during the day.
Look how the geese travel as one "V,"
heading to destinations for food 
and noisome conversation as they dine.
A pair breaks off from the flight of the whole
and lands in the open lawn next door.
I sip coffee as they sip things found in the dewed grass.
Would they let me join in their endeavors?
Would I allow them on my back porch?
Do we value each other across the lines of species?
The geese call out, answering with a "honk"
that I fail to understand in my place as a human.
If we share stories now which we cannot comprehend,
what hope will there be when the Big Bang
turns upon itself and becomes the big Crunch,
one "honk" to another?