Category: Uncategorized

The Mom I never figured out.

Who was not there for me.

Who loved me from afar, but was not far away.

Who was closer to my nephews and nieces than she ever was to me.

And no one, not even her in our brief exchanges, ever told me why.

And I remember my college girlfriend and me at the funeral, after she did not even know that my “real” mother was living until I told her she had died.

I always understood John Lennon’s “Mother” more than most, even the first time I heard it.

The Mom who came into my life at 8 and gave me new life and a younger brother.

Whom I count as my mother.

Who loved me until her dying day that came far too soon.

Who gave me new hope and saw the goodness in me.

And made me feel safe and loved.

The Mom of our children who waited for the blessing of our first child with the sorrow that comes from waiting.

Who shines her light. Who does the hard work.

Who teaches in the school almost as well as she teaches in the home.

And I think how both my Moms helped me find this Mom, the one with whom I share parenthood,

The one with whom I share my life.

My wife.

There is a point that no manner of new age reading,
review of ancient scripture,
or calling out to the spirits within or outside seems to provide any peace of mind.

This,
I think,
is the very essence of loneliness.

It is the bone chilling wind that can hit in the middle of the hottest summer.
No one would know that what I need is a blanket.

It is the impossible sweat-drenched heat-wave that can nearly drown the victim in the middle of the coldest winter.
No one would know that what I need is to be covered in ice.

It is the tastelessness of the good food, and the allure of the sweet poisons.

It is the heartburn that water causes, and wine, strangely, relieves.

The point is that singular!
That sharp!
That thin, as to be invisible even as it pokes me.

The sages of olden times call out to me.

The saints, the ones who deserve it, pray for my soul.

My ears hear noises that irritate me where there is no noise
and curse the music from the prettiest of birds..

The point is that singular!
That sharp!
That thin, as to be invisible even as it pokes me.

The calm is just out of reach,

But in the reaching I feel the unexpected warmth of the sun,

And hear the gentle lapping of the waves and the calling of the gulls,

And I am mesmerized by the glistening on the waves.

I grasp for calm and fail.

If only all my failures left me so satisfied.

When in doubt,
Always in doubt.
I have no doubt about that.
Words that can’t be expressed.
Inspiration that lingers
And the feeling of support
That holds on for
Infinity
Eternity
Alongside doubt,
Wonder, amazement, disregard.
The leaving of a friend with much left unsaid,
But so much said.
Carrying so much along the way,
Sometimes each other.
Not standing steadfast, but standing.
Standing amidst the falling timbers,
Standing strong.
Sometimes standing alone.

A testament.

The occasional lone tear trickles down my face,
landing on my black shirt and will stay invisible there,
with only me knowing its whereabouts.

Even if I don’t understand its roots.

It’s fallen in the middle of silent meditation,
And was preceded by no conscious thoughts whatsoever
As to why it’s chosen now to release.

The mystery is one I embrace.
Deep within me, beneath my layers of protection,
An emotional, a spiritual prisoner of pain needed its freedom.

I am content to merely have been treated to a drip
Of relief
And will allow myself to sit in silence

And hope for more sweet forgiveness.

The birds are out today
without looking at a calendar
and despite the freezing temperature
they know it is Spring
and their turn to
Sing.

This bird I am observing
is shivering
shaking all the more
given the force of wind
and
rears back his little neck
and thrusts forward
letting out his sweet shrill
from his frosted beak

And later I sit
for the first time since late fall
on my designated naturally formed rock pew
and stare at the sunlit water
as a cold breeze slaps my face
and close my eyes
to see a red background light behind my eyelids
and insist
that Spring is indeed here.

I simmer

I will simmer

I have simmered

I constantly have simmering sensations

I was burned 

and the wound was obvious

and was treated

and seemingly healed.

But the heat sent its energy

throughout my body.

Little delicate airpockets of combustion

waiting to get lit on.

My body is lukewarm,

but simmering,

awaiting but trying to avoid

that which will take it to a boil.

My starting point is never on off,

but always ready to heat up.

Meditation, love and friendships

act as cooling agents

and are welcome reliefs

from the body overheating

under the bright lights

or standing too close to the sun.

I love it when a shadow of a flying bird appears on the path in front of me

And I glance above

And see nothing at all there

And I am left to wonder,

Without fear or self-judgment,

if that was an

Hallucination or

A

Vision.

Samuel Beckett said, “You’re on Earth. There is no cure for that.”

Buddha said, “All life is suffering.”

John Lennon wrote, “All you need is love.” 

Paul Westerberg screamed, “We’ll inherit the Earth, but we don’t want it!”

And I get sick of the new method of just loving the people closest to us.

Even Jesus was quoted as saying. “The poor will always be with us.”

Of course he said a lot more positive things about love and compassion. 

But the futility is well established. 

We, who love anyway know that all WE need is love, but that our efforts have failed

and we continue to love.

Can’t stop.

Won’t stop.

Right up to our collective dying breaths.

And

we will fail

but it is all we know.

Sadness still visits me as I visit my special place.

But sadness brings different qualities here.

Gentleness

And exuding compassion.

Shining brightly,

Sadness loves me here.