"Outside Over There"

Day Twenty-one


My heart and mind simply are not built to fit in
Though I change daily just as anyone else
Even the changes carry me to a different place
It matters not whether I am at work or church
Shopping or laughing with family
I somehow seem to be contained in a separate sphere
Always just beyond whatever seems to be the go and flow of the moment
I really do not mind this
I am used to it by now
But sometimes
When my mind believes so strongly
Or my heart struggles so deeply
Over things observed
To the point I feel compelled to express what seems no one notices
I cannot hold back
And voice words
Sounding strangely intense
Shooting rapidly as water from a pump over- primed
And those standing by wonder
Why this person speaks so intently
About nothing

Can You Hear Them?

Day Twenty

I find it exasperating
That people advance themselves over and above others as experts of thought
In fact they go so far as to create groups that participate in the promotion of their expertise
As if belonging to the group will make everyone associated an expert
Or at least amassing adherents will make them seem accurate
You go so far as to ignore whole parts of the very ideas or documents you purport to uphold
You narrow vision to keep your schema together
How can you give up everything to persist
Without considering that perhaps the message is too big
That perhaps it is possible you have stowed significant treasure in the dust
That no one is any less vulnerable to misunderstandings
I am weary of their effects
And long for a time when the hurt and rejected
Will grasp for themselves the courage to taste and see

Homeland

Day Nineteen


I prepare the many new books for shelving
Dozens of titles present varied cultures
I see the faces of humanity
Busy at work, joining in play
Pride in their families
The weather-worn skin of many shades, and eyes of many colors
All within the same borders;
What are borders really?
Humanity does not live and love within square miles
Life has not been easy
And I wonder why their people have treated them so carelessly
And I wonder why our people could never imagine
Life so grippingly fragile
And I wonder why the world lets itself go on so
And would it be any different
If we shifted people around the continents?
Whole populations to begin again in new environments
Waterfalls for those who have only known arid land
And cities for those languishing in isolation
But I turn the pages, and I can see
Misery is not geographical

Walk Away Walk Away

day seventeen


walk away
decision
motion
direction
toward
approaching
arriving
observing
adjusting
again
walk away
decision
motion
direction
approaching
arriving
observing
adjusting
becoming

Denominations

Day Sixteen



I like what I’m seeing
It has been a long, long time
Watching, waiting, measuring
Will you live up to all you stand for
I have heard beginnings
Observed fragments coming together
I have been there for moments or events
When self restrained,
Groups moved almost in unison
You have not forgotten
Purpose exceeds procedure
Truth is the same
Though methods differ
And I am hopeful
By your joined meals and prayers
I am hopeful
Through your combined children’s songs
I am hopeful
In your shared service
Because it tells me
You are finally moving
Finally willing
To be as One

Be With Me

Day Fifteen


The supper you made was delicious
Thank you for that
It was not until later in the evening though,
When I was preparing for the next day's work
That I noticed the chair you had placed
Pulled out from the table and facing the kitchen
There you could rest
While the peppers simmered, the vegetables steamed
And I wondered
How I would miss your presence in years to come
When you were no longer there
To cook for me after a long day
To care for my well-being
The out-turned chair confirms your presence
It reveals you thinking of me
If I leave it exactly where it sits,
Will you be with me forever?

Chennai

Day Fourteen


I remember your stories
Of photo trips through India
The colors
The colors are what you spoke of most
I selected one 11x14
Of cloths draped from a window, drying
One blue, one red, one yellow
High from an upper story they fell in contour
Across the peeling gray building
No air to lift the moisture from their folds

But the one I cannot forget
That pierces through me still
Is black and white
A young girl, maybe ten
Long dark hair plaited
Beyond the shoulder and soft about the face
Blown by gathering winds that rippled
Through her white shirt and pleated skirt
The dark sky looming
As her bare feet hugged the crop-worn soil
One turned inward toward the other
In shy uncertain wonder betraying
What the eyes would not

Warm Spring Eternal

Day Thirteen


I am grateful our senses can remember
Or if it is not they themselves,
They at least notice and interpret
Drawing from stored experience in our minds

For I can enjoy
The pleasure given by warm spring afternoons
Without having to think or analyze—
The enjoyment just simply is

I can be at once
Six years old and cuddling my baby,
Running through the yard with my children
And exploring a forest path with my husband,
Our children grown

And what if
When our lives come to a close
And we pass into a new mode of being,
The pleasure of each warm spring afternoon
Experienced in a lifetime
Will be accessible
Even if not consciously classified,
Called into experience
By what unimaginable catalyst?

Three Scenes Captured

Day Twelve


Sometimes I have no photographs
I am torn between simply soaking in experience
And working tirelessly to capture it
As if the light could be captured
That transforms
And gives body to hundreds of tiny, flitting insects
Flaunting their repertoire

Or the smokeless, thick hanging air curling
Through moss fronds and down over
The swaging root branch that extends
For me an observation seat
Just inches above the gurgling stream
The mist-fading scene
Gently stirs a quiet spirit

But once I arrived upon a picture
Still and silent
Moments after the snow had ceased
Preserved in photograph

Vespers for Ash Wednesday

Day Eleven

may I in some way
move and speak and breathe
in harmony with your angels
at work in the world
for your words are living
and speak your voice
that all may be joined to you

Interview On "Sunday Morning"

Day Ten


They said you would call meetings over lunch
Meetings that would last for hours
Even on into the night
They laughed over the ruse of it
Proud to be included in this
Most intelligent fraternity

They said you would have prepared
A document
To be shared and discussed
A challenge of wits
That perhaps only the present circle
Could deem intelligible

I think they enjoyed the inclusion
The debate, the sparring
Very few thinkers could instigate
In them a burning question
To replace the complacent assurance
That is their daily existence

The mind cannot heal cell and sinew
Your body is breaking down
Cancer has been developing
Unobservable through your intellect
Does this mean it was any less real
Before it manifested in proof?

Home Away From Home

Day Nine

They picked out a small piece of property
Not even married a year
Cleared it of underbrush
Each time they visited the sea.

They walked the dimensions of their land
Discovered every tree and flower,
The birds that sang in the spring and fall,
Transplanted trees growing too closely
And placed them to thrive at the entrance.

They hoped to bring their family
In years to come
To create memories of summers spent together
Making a home away from home.

For years they traveled together
Bringing their children
To the salt spray of the ocean
Always stopping by their property
To walk through the growth of trees and imagine
A home through the twining brambles.

Recently they retrieved a small building plan
From far beneath forgotten papers
They are retiring now
The trees they planted no longer distinguishable
Among the scrubby pines
That choked them
Perhaps, soon
They may build a small home
Where memories could be made of summers
Making a home away from home.

The King's Chair

Day Eight

upon viewing the motion picture, THE KING'S SPEECH

I do not know what I was expecting
But it was the King of England!
His chair, each successive ruler's coronation seat
For the past hundreds of years
All the history, the pains and suffering
The hope, the joy, the treachery
The lives no longer present
Yet somehow there, expectant

The King's chair
Not of gold or other precious metals
Not plush with silk or valuable furs
Not encrusted with jewels and inlaid pearl
Instead a work of humble craftsmanship
Of wood intricately carved

What has happened in our world
That provides within us such overblown assumptions
What can this teach me
When even royalty had not seen wealth
To the extent modern society prescribes
We have advanced
Beyond the modest
Have inaugurated acquisition
Of things
And the mechanisms
Of industry and capacity
That profess to make
A footstool of our discontent
And still we seek,
We long
For a righteous governor

I Have Learned Many Things

Day Seven


I have learned many things
But did not expect to continue learning
In areas considered absolute
Which does not mean truth is changing
Only, through shades and highlights
Its shape reveals
Where once the edges carved a sharp and angled plane
They curve and layer and fold one upon another
But all is still geometry

If I Could Use All I Have to Give

Day Six


If I could use all I have to give
If I could give and it would carry through
If expectations would hold
So the effort would not be wasted

I get there and it dissolves
Fades away as if never begun
Pack up enthusiasm yet again
But I was so hoping
I really thought
It was supposed
No,
Not
This time

I am ready
I bring everything I have
Yes, I can see this time__it will be serious
The purpose is too important
We can accomplish so much
It will be great
I am ready
Will no one
No,
Really
What a shame
But, I thought
I thought

For Justice Rides the Morning

Day Five


For Justice Rides the Morning

It is okay, the day closes
You cannot be blamed for another's lie
For those who know you, those who matter
The truth remains and will not waver
Rest in this
Let the rumors fade within the quiet shadows
Hold firm through the coming blackness
For justice rides the morning

Surely A Time Will Come

Day Four


Surely A Time Will Come

Surely a time will come
When you will not veil your being
Behind themed and constructed costumes
Meant to hide your being

I try to find it in your song
In case you relent or inadvertently hide it there
It is not the orchestrated experience
But your melody I seek

You Can Give Us Money

Day Three


You Can Give Us Money

You can give us money
We have many things to do
You can give us money
There are many hungry here
You can give us money
They need clothes and shoes
You can give us money
The nets keep sickness away
Celebrate survivors
Scholarships will educate
Websites are expensive
Utility bills grow higher
Unemployment rises
You can give us money
We can reach more people
You can give us money
You can give us money


But


Who will speak with them
And hold their hands
Who will laugh with them
And celebrate achievements
Who will walk with them
And protect the neighborhoods
Who will pray with them
And miss their company