sense

there’s no substance
I can turn to
to bring relief
nothing to spirit away
these leaden thoughts
these poisonous doubts
these disheartening fears
it is all a matter
of dark and light

so I must abandon substance
—or perception of it—
I must cling
to what I cannot touch
I must strain to see
what is invisible
I must train my ears
to the great silence
and pray
blindly
deafly
dumbly
like a drowning paralytic
and trust
that my God
will not fail me
as my senses
and those they encounter
inevitably do
I must know
despite all contrary evidence
that beneath the sand
and under the water
is rock

July 2008

lockdown

these premises
are now password protected
open acceptance
and open admission
are as drastically different
as love and trust
one I offer
simply on account
of your humanity
the other
you may never receive

there is divine precedent
for this strategy:
a famous Man
—an infamous Man—
openly loved
taught
and died for
all
yet cloaked his purpose
in parables
whispering their meaning
to a trusted
tested
thoroughly vetted
few

there with the grace of God
go I

July 2008

crossing

I came to a place
where the banks of a small stream
narrowed
and sat and watched the water
my eyes were drawn
to a single stone
not the only
nor the largest
what drew me
was the flow
of the water over it
it just looked different
compelling
its smooth surface
rounded of its hard edges
long ago
yet rounding still
it simply yielded
to something greater
the shape of the water
as it moved over it
looked almost like fingers
of some unseen hand
which held it gently in place
a visual paradox of motion

I considered this metaphor
of will and yielding
and I realized:
that rock
was the perfect stepping stone
a handful of others could
with patient shaping
reasonable proximity
and deliberate stillness
become a path
from here to there
a way somewhere
a crossing

July 2008

acquaintances

are friends any less
meaningful
if less than lifelong?
if serving the purposes
of but a moment
yet defining that moment
do we need to track them down?
are we doomed
to disappointment
nine times out of ten?
will they inevitably
mirror for us
the shallowness
that we were for them?

we become reticent
hesitant
gunshy
wary of being
the one to pull the trigger
and ashamedly discover
the other never took
the safety off
we build temporary shelters
afraid of building
something intended
for permanence
that might go unoccupied
and be ultimately condemned
or worse
a monument
to our embarrassment

easier to carry a small tent
and stop for the day
the week
see how it goes
far less disappointing
to be an emotional nomad
and move on
travel light
clean as you go
leave no trace
that a heart
ever stopped here

July 2008