Fall

Autumn is dying time
yet we die in the heat of summer
not anticipating the chill.

We play and dance in summer's sun
running here, slumbering there
mindful of the heat -
can't imagine where
or when we'll get relief


We fall into false dreams
believing time will never change
the play, the sunshine, the love

holiness

the place revered
that place of holiness

the times
we heard
the Word preached

in the spirit
or
in the mind

the Word ever and always the last word

holiness today
in the rubble of war
in the rattle of pneumonia
the baby's cry

where is holiness in this?

Power

power given is power gained
the giver gains
the gainer gives

power driven into form is pain
the painful drives
the driver in pain

energy over time
in lost time,
the thousand visions
and revisions
that a moment can reverse

but the time for the powerful to envision
is now
the visionaries empowered
with energy somehow
act in concert
with the powerful to
gain anew insight and hope
for those inert and soured


energy in time
in time to save
the dying aunt
the frightened niece
the sister in denial
presence
sweet presence
is energy standing still

Can presence carry power
in time for those moments
when the disconnected glimpse
a little hope
peering into the emptiness of their pain?

Can power in presence
carry into those moments
we re-member (once more),
the comfort
of connectedness?

Rabbit and Frog

honey bunny she said
Ribbit said he

what sound does a bunny make?

add a pear and a hare
stir the grenouille

pour beure blanc pour tout
taunt the tongue

Pierre lapin watches me

from his sterling cup

but I can't see

Expectations

He quietly named the friends he was losing
at 76 and I
recall how parents, surprised,
felt this lonely prick
of their self-same mortality
with tearful eyes


alone -
The Last Leaf-
A rite of passage, this
realizing that you have outlasted your peers.


When half my friends died of AIDS
at half the expected age of death
I felt that prick.
young and energetic
I wailed, "this is wrong, this passage"
I've outlived my peers
and yet have years and years before I leave

Expectations shattered
waves of tingled silence.
hollow shivering pain
accompany the rushing realization
that the world is not as it is
or was
or should be.

Somehow I believed
my understanding
would go the distance with me.

Lost in time's continuum
in newly real vision
understanding revised
I stood shocked
The Last Leaf
at 35

*****************
with homage to Oliver Wendell Holmes' The Last Leaf

Timliness

They died too young:
David
Roger
Lloyd
Michael
Bob
Bill
Daryl
Jeannie
Doctor Ty
Virginia
Ann
Mary


What does it mean to die before your time?
What determines your time, but God.
And free will choices
And random acts of violence
And birth events
And genes

What matters when we live or die?
We matter only in relationship
with things
with work
with people we love
and those we don't

We matter in the now
And take the now with us

Sunday Calls

My father loved calling on Sundays

Visiting friends or family
he took his pleasure from polite
conversation

Sometimes we'd visit more than one home.
Short, surprise visits to all.
"A pop call," he (My Pop) would say.
Always laughter and warm comfort
of old, well oiled relationships,
memories of an earlier day

His, the art of conversing in a formal way
"How've you been?"
"What about Lucille?"
"We are busy with church and scouts."
"Little Billy is such a pill."

Why he loved calling was lost on me
a child, wanting to play outdoors
(I did like the cookies and tea)
Mostly I was bored

The connection he found
caring with someone -
if even in a formal way -
soothed mutual relations
and mended their hearts
torn by too much worldly sway
*
My father's King James bible
marked in his hand
goes with me on Sundays now

I've found new friends
among the old
and lonely ones -
caring if even in a formal way -
"how are you now?"
"do you hurt today?"

soothing hearts alone and lost
caring connections found
I hear their hearts
sing of love's long breath
as they slowly pass away

Wake Up. Call

Never married, "an Old Maid"
my father would say

lovers called roommates
the charade a promise
extracted by mom

Turning disappointment
to anger
"no one is good enough for you,"
my father would say

childless on purpose
(who would want to pass along these genes?)
I have missed important
parts of life

Known by many
and loved by them too
I never thought I would
die alone.

awaking to Presence
always with me
calling softly,
"let's just be"

Is this my chance?
commitment to love
content with my choice
faithful to vows?

How very long this
journey has been
loss of family
bereft of respect

Gladly I go
with Presence
to meet those who
die alone

Walking with Presence
to nurse families'
untied bonds of love,
lives twisted asunder

Uniting brokenness
before it's too late
to repair the bonds.
opening one heart
to life after death