Tuesday

..
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I had hoped that you might allow me,
escape from my madness and emptiness,
for one half hour, or perhaps an hour or two;
or dare I wish for half a day.
That is perhaps too much to ask for –
but then I would give it right back to you.
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Vain Imaginings

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In the chaos of the quiet,
when I think I am alone and yet,
I am united in strife and discord
with manic multitudes,
and the world does not go away,
I think about love, and you.
I think about love.


Is that which swells within me,
love... eager to be poured?
That which I've ached to do,
for so many unfulfilled years
of someone else's
misdirected loveless appetite.


I do not begrudge
the honesty of not knowing;
when in their own anxious hearts,
wanting to forcibly give
what they knew not I needed,
they selfishly gave what they,
themselves needed release from.


I have tried to fashion it,
as if to form and fabricate
love into being;
to tangibly exist for
my own selfish purpose,
which is to give to you.


I am constrained
to be released of it,
but prevailing more
in vain imaginings
of building castles
at tempest's edge
with desiccated sand.


And yet I know that
like sere, thirsty sand,
love is uncontainable;
not given to conformity,
but ever shifting to accommodate;
to reconcile each to the other,
and all to itself..
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The Silence Between Heartbeats

Before you,
mine was an equilibrious life,
positively charged with negative currents
of discordant din and familiar havoc,
aimlessly energized by fits of enthusiasm,
casually strolling pell-mell toward the mark
of a not so much wiser but anxious goal-giver;
proceeding in haste, to fulfill my intentions
of tortuous journeys from heartbeat to heartbeat,
with not so much pause as to notice who goes there;
until as it happened by fortunate prelude,
an undisturbed moment of a quieter life,
in the silence between heartbeats.
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With you,
to rhythmically tenor my life,
a delicate finger was laid to my pulse,
your vigorous effort to order and rhyme
a more tranquil confusion, deceptively cogent,
more so as whispers to challenge the violence,
of overly-patient present day intellects,
rather than protest which placates the contrast
of passion and apathy from heartbeat to heartbeat;
the comings and goings from somewhere to nowhere;
tyrannical vanity holds tight the reins,
maintaining a slow down to a quieter life,
in the silence between heartbeats.
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Without you;
despite the hope that I ever breathe on,
I nonetheless bleed the choreographed tears
of lovers whose dance was hastily halted
by arrogant whores and the impotence of will,
which then fell to the floor for sadists to sport,
as journalists who queue to delight in disasters;
you think me absent since you can not see me,
alone as we are from heartbeat to heartbeat,
though memories serve for as long as they haunt,
such is the interlude of not being with you.
I know you there still in the quieter life,
the silence between heartbeats.
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I THANK YOU FOR THAT

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Dear Father,

Here am I, again needing You to talk to because You listen, and care, and I thank You for that. Lord, we have talked, it would seem, many times about everything there was ever a need for. Sometimes You needed to talk to me, and other times I needed to talk to You. Often in our conversations, I was redundant; frequently I was bold; seldom was I selfish. Always You were patient; without wavering You were attentive; never were You dismissing. I thank You for that.

Lord, I need to talk to You about something I've never talked to You about before... my 85th birthday. I've known You or about You for most of my life. You've known me since... well, since before I was born. But there is no yesterday with You, and I don't know how many tomorrows I have, so we have only right now. And right now I want to tell You thank You for my life...thank You for my children's lives...and their children's lives...and their children's lives.

Oh yes Lord, there have been tribulations. As You said… in You we have peace, in the world we will have tribulation. But that we should be of good cheer because You have overcome the world.
And I thank you for that.

And even so Lord, as Your servant Paul said..."we glory in tribulations" because tribulations work for our perfection. I must be approaching perfection, thanks to You. But, I am also approaching my 85th birthday, and I feel like I have nothing left to do. I am here in this home with others like me. I have made new friends, but it seems a forced friendship; a communal relationship dictated more by proximity to one another rather than attraction. I notice some are worse off than me, (not that I have ever complained), and I sometimes wish I could help, but I know I can't. But You can, and I thank You for that.

Some days I cannot remember things that are certain and vivid to those around me. Some days, when I do remember things, I am angry at my idleness. Some days I need to vent...when my children are here. I know no one likes to see that... especially You. But I know too that everyone forgives me... especially You, and I thank You for that.

Family time seems somewhat reduced here, but when everyone gets together with each other and our families, it is a very exciting time... and fun! It's a small town here and most everyone knows everyone else. In some cases, there needs to be a re-acquaintance made because of years gone by. It's good to see "old" friends again. Some aren't quite so old. Some were still just babies when I knew them... now all grown up with children of their own, who are themselves about to get married.

My, my, my... how did I get here? 85 years (almost) and I wonder, "what next"? I guess we all wonder "what next" because, if we were to think about it, "what next" is in the future. And we all wonder about the future. Perhaps I should ask...what "now"? Never mind 85 years old. I am now, 84 years, 7 months and 3 days "old". (Sure feels like 85!). If I stop thinking about "what next" and ask "what now", I see that "the now" ...the moment, is taken care of. And I thank You for that.

What a long life. I've seen so much. Some things I still don't understand. Some things I wish I had not seen. Take care of my family, as You have all these years; and I'll see You tomorrow.
And I thank You for that.
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To A Gull

Cupular wings which hold the wind,
to rise above the watery plane.
Racked limbs across expanse of sky,
gliding between the slalom rain.

The sea, the sand, the sun you soar,
your effortless flight I covet.
You live the life of musing men,
the world below and you above it.

Yet do I sense that you dream yourself,
I can not perceive quite the essence.
Only to know that you've long yet to go,
and learn that you live in His presence.

I've watched you bask on bountiful beaches,
poking and pecking at crab or clam.
You eat all that you find whether dead or alive,
even the swill of man.

Sail into spiraling space my love,
my thoughts and dreams do follow.
Sing the song of the graceful gull,
as the whimsical wind you swallow.
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