Jazz musician, army grunt, married three times, retired, dressed-up every morning for a day of aloneness, still practices on electronic drums in his bedroom while watching cable television, waiting for the evening meal to be delivered and open the door with a welcoming smile.
We all hope to be admitted to the formal program of eye surgeries and getting groceries, returning from distances traveled where blessings flowed on Sundays and phone calls were made to remember truths inspired by change and disrupted before stable time and mask-wearing. Some transplants work better than others allowing a few to become busy once again making holes in roofs for friends to drop in unexpectedly, challenging the most difficult adage, Play can be work, and serving eggs and toast with strong coffee for breakfast. And still others grow tired of the noisy routine of taping window signs to glass demanding guests cohere to a set of guidelines created by those who talk a great game but fail to enjoy their favorite snack and continually wander around the block of anxiety in need of weeding.
Trailing a chased desire turned memory, Age creeps and twists to white life's diadem. The bench of old men sit in reverie Asking wisps of air shimmering before them: “Where did our time go?” Hours fade and turn. Withering petals whirl and glance to ground. “To dust?” Not yet. Ashes of flesh still burn, Yearning for the touch of a lover soon found. Hidden among pale towns in and out of mist She dances on lanes of glittering stone. Outstretched arms encompass all and, kissed, Inhabitants touch their cheeks, each alone. Wonder grows and grows to eternity. Human and being wrapped in mystery.
Is it the long winter which makes my poems so serious and keeps them buried in cold, methodological longing?
Divine word, who appears in the dullness of our days like lightning and shakes the ground, move the stones away from our heavy hearts, for the guards we have placed around the perimeters of our lives number in the thousands. Amen.
The metrics show a decrease in privilege despite more attention being paid to differences incenting niceness. Uncomfortable work reversing trends of excellence in response to being screwed fails once again. Victims of the same pedagogical systems which teach downward mobility remain enthralled. We kid ourselves by filling our garages with used mattresses thinking Jefferson's meritocracy has arrived. Great thoughts remain small behind curtains while little men control the levers of work and play.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't want to give the words of the prophet any chance to ruin my day today." She rolled over and, waking up, slowly said, "Was that you yelling in the bathroom?" "Yes," I answered. "I stepped out of the shower and turned to the spider in the corner above the door and asked, How do you get food?" Yawning while arching her back to stretch, she said, "It helps to remember that creation and completion are two very different acts." I agreed. "Such a strong feeling threatens to overwhelm me." She sat up. "All the more reason to recognize your need to be in the midst of people who stimulate you."
The introduction of body trauma at the age of six draws ghosts and demons out of dark closets, like a ruinous rush of children onto the playground before someone gets hurt at recess by falling off the monkey bars because, given the chance, words can become tangled and powerless to prevent this spring morning day to come crashing down around any intentional steps taken beyond the timbered bark confine enclosing the days games.
Loneliness is not an issue when we're born into litters. God chooses things that are not to reduce things that are to nothing. Meaning can be found in the land beyond where stone writes on stone. Create and record the task placed at the center of your garden.
God of Snakes, Snakebites, and Antidotes, who turns into bronze to be lifted on a pole, such weird ways can be found in the wilderness. Is the sin of impatience worth death? Look upon us as we look upon you to raise us into life from this place of being bitten down. Amen.