Learning to like questions is different from learning questions. Learning to like others is different from liking others. And if you learn to like questions, then you can learn to like others.
Category Archives: Poetry
My poetry. Mostly Collects
The Pit and Stones
Life is a lesson in loosening absolutes; separate from a connection to any particulars; like the pit inside a peach letting go of the fruit. Take a walk around the block holding the hand of your favorite belief and see how many steps it takes before collapsing on to the concrete. Some people like to slice time up as if it were a pie, hoping to eat a piece of the morning before the sun rises above the straight roof line at the treetops. How many first stones not thrown lie one on top of another, creating a pile next to us which we can then use to build a walkway to our next love?
Morning
Shadows of chairs lay on the ground. A cool autumn breeze moves through the window. Yesterday's imperfections sleep only in memory.
Different From Yesterday
I said, "My fear is that organizational formality will swallow all of us whole." She asked, "Does that fear arise from the dangerous memories that haunt you or from some gracious hint from the divine?" I said, "A life's pilgrimage lives in the steps taken closer to my heart than out beyond the land that rises in the West." She said, "Imagine big smiley faces written lovingly across the pages of your notebook." I said, "I am keenly aware of how, unburdened from affliction, we reach a state of grace." She said, "Then let us broaden our experience of time's moments differently than yesterday."
“Pray then in this way…” – Matthew 6:9
Teacher of all things; who shares the Law, who promises the good while containing catastrophe, who does not accept burnt offerings, and who leans into our desires, hear us as we pray and may our voices come through the clamor and drone of noise surrounding our days as it surrounded the days of our ancestors. Amen.
The Seventh
Life plays complex tunes Many of which end on the seventh Creating states of discord With an expectation of
Four Knowns For Today
I look down and there are my cheekbones right where they are supposed to be. Soon I will glance out the window and see the first snow of the season and say, "It's snowing." Joseph taught Jesus more than we know while hammering and sawing together behind the house. The light shimmers differently for all those who can see and for all those who cannot see.
Surviving Choices
Was that the correct choice? Did I make the right decision? Was I thinking correctly? Is there a path and am I on it? Though these questions nag and bubble up inside to rattle my brain from time-to-time they are better than the spirit-withering clawing of the negative voice that condemns the small steps which I have made to survive.
Madness of Suffering
I believe in the madness of suffering shared. All flowers cry as their petals drop to the ground. As flower petals drop to the crying ground the crazy day in the desert misses the point. The point of the desert is to be crazy. Even ruins dominate the horizon. The dominant horizon ruins even the simplest of holy gestures made by hands. Holy, holding hands is a simple gesture. There is no room for the adversary there. The adversary is there in the room forcing a look at the way the world is. The way the world is forces a look at my belief in the shared madness of suffering.
Into the Wilderness
Continue to look through the Complacency created by Ache-Covering Consumerism and Beyond the Announcements that offer Delights for All Ages while the Big Imperative roots around in commercial Offerings caught between the First Half of Life and the Last Step into the Tomb where all wait in Hope for some Miracle to motivate Modern Man to leave Nothing below and Go willingly into the Wilderness.
A Thread You Follow 