crystal glass alone
table cloth beneath spread out
filled with light glowing
light flowing outward
or light coming from within
its beauty the same
the light shines on all
allowing beauty to be
all equal before it’s glow
truth born it’s genius
all exposed mercy not there
flaws shown no regard.
light harsh or loving
treated with justice severe
none spared scrutiny
crystal glass alone
imperfections all to see
mercy shows itself
freely is given
received in tur
A broader world
In the 70’s for a while, I got involved in macramé. I remember one day being in a store and seeing a knotted creation hanging on a wall. I was intrigued by the knotting, got a book on the subject, which I spent some time studying. The knotting was easy, and it seemed to give full sway to creativity, so I decided to give it a whirl. I did a few flat pieces to get comfortable with the knotting, very simply really, mathematical actually. I would just make it up as I went and
Three friends at a table
Sharing a meal,
Other dishes giving pleasure,
Nothing compared to the laughter,
The delight they all took in each other.
Friendship the healing ointment,
A gift bestowed,
A present received,
A grace we lavish on one another,
Each unique giving the gift
Of seeing and being seen.
The large cup on its matching saucer,
Its white emptiness expectant,
Desiring to be filled,
To accomplish what it was made for.
Bitter to the taste,
An offering for the one it served.
It was set aside, again.
Only its whiteness remained,
Longing again to be filled.
The word was spoken
In pain the words uttered
Fueled by anger
The bow let and it flew.
Target found embedded
What was once was is now no more
Chasm deep where once there was none
Only mercy the cure.
One thing everyone has in common is memories, lots of them. Some events from the past are pleasant, others on the other hand can be horrible, and perhaps the majorities are a mixed bag. I find it interesting how at times a memory will suddenly float up from some dark chamber of my unconscious and present itself. I often have no idea why, perhaps there is no real reason, though I think otherwise. Even if I don’t always understand, which is a very common state for me to be in; I sti
It is hard at times to understand what makes others tick, so alien we can be to one another. So much alike, yet vast differences can lead to times when building bridges is almost impossible. Simple gestures, carefully chosen words, even smiles, can be interrupted in ways not dreamed of. I have had this experience a couple of times in my life when this has happened. There can be a great deal of frustration from both sides. The only road to peace is to simply accept the impasse, and ho
Walking the beach on a cloudy windy night,
Low dark clouds swirling above,
Moving fast in wave like motion
Almost in sync with the sea below.
Shoes soaked from the pungent salty tide,
Tuxedo in disarray
Torn and bloody……
Walking in shock not knowing where he is at,
Only the deep sorrow of what just transpired his reality.
A second is all it took,
Only wreckage and blood the aftermath,
Beloved dead the crash deadly
Only the deep darkness of shock presen
We pray together not apart,
Before God we are one,
“When I was hungry, you fed me”.
Judging others, it is ourselves we show contempt towards,
Trapped in a world of mirrors we cannot escape.
Separation is not possible,
The web that binds us is eternal unbreakable.
Those we hate is where Christ is found,
The undeserving those we should help,
Giving love without recompense is our path,
What should be striven for,
Failure a spur to keep on the way.
The heart weighed down,
With worries many,
Anxious about what is to come,
What is now,
Alas also what was.
From the depths of that same heart
Its gift given freely,
Only the moment is real,
All else falls away
At least for a time,
Yet is that not enough?
A taste of hopefully what is to come?
The nature of things
Sometimes when I arise early
The moon still high in the vault above me,
Only silence without,
Traffic hushed for a time until the rush begins,
Perhaps the wind gentle in its caress,
Or crickets calling forlornly out for a mate,
Is my company,
Non-intrusive, peaceful, in the music that they make.
As I sit in the quiet kitchen
My morning ritual before me,
Coffee mate and sugar,
Stirring slowly watching the steam rise before me,
Isolation can sometimes close in,
Like the smooth flowing of thick grey fog
Rising from the warm earth into the cool night air,
Blocking out the noise of speaking,
Becoming soft muttering barely understandable,
Comprehension nullified by simple absorption
The fog of inner preoccupation.
Words come in force,
Or perhaps something important,
It does not matter,
Often just appropriate sounds politely made
Giving the illusion of actua
What is truly sought
The human heart longs for one thing only,
Seeks that which will quench its inner thirst,
Often taking paths leading nowhere
Or perhaps destructive in their fruits,
In the search for what it truly desires,
If often misunderstood.
Our songs tell of its agony and ecstasy,
The pain deep that it brings,
Also joys beyond bearing,
Asking nothing less than everything.
Parents know of this jewel,
Also know the pain that it brings,
The child more treasured th
Blah, Blah, Blah
I went to the airport yesterday to pick up the brother of a friend. Atlanta airport is probably the busiest in the world at this time and growing faster than the space being allowed. So in the summer you can only imagine how bad it can be, and just before a holiday only adds to the mess. Sometimes even the hourly parking lot is full in the summer months, but I was lucky, I was able to get in, though it did seem to be filling up.
The security was tight; there were police p
The dry air hot beyond bearing,
Microwave sun beating down on the earth,
Dry parched looking in despair for life giving rain
Patiently sets for what must come one day.
Dormant for the duration,
Trees struggling with tap roots digging deep,
Longing for wetness not felt for so long,
Some dying slowly their deep roots lifeless,
Forced to endure a long slow death,
Even if the rains come.
Thunder rolls across the dark sky,
Winds come with traces of moistu
Slowly consumed by his mind’s forgetfulness
He looks out in confusion trying to understand,
“What the hell is going on”,
At times screaming this for all to hear,
Raging at what is perceived as false imprisonment,
Swinging out in fear and anger,
Seeking for some kind of justice in a world gone crazy,
Which never comes,
In Kafka’s castle he wanders,
Lost in dark corridors pursued by those who imprison,
Reasons for never revealed
It is very simple really,
Something so common that no notice need be taken,
His life was ordinary like so many others,
From outward appearances at least,
Childhood, school, college, marriage, career,
Some tragedy mixed among it all.
It happened fast his demise,
A statistical number he became,
One of the ‘so many’ who die of a certain cause,
Which is unimportant,
He died that is all that is important.
He found himself waiting,
In a plac