You may think of taxes owed, of union dues, and a careless lot that deserves what it got.
When I hear the sirens cry, I think of this:
Strangers rushing care for strangers. And a community who cares enough to keep a few, always at the ready.
Before you curse the traffic light, bless the road you’re on.
And you will find, your gratitudes, are bursting at the gates.
The rush of confusion, to realize the That, which you do not understand.
To see the vast, that can not be fathomed.
It is a falling, from the now, into forever.
A point of light, into the pale of darkness.
The complete embrace of empty.
I do not pine for love that’s lost.
I weep for love that never was.
It seems to count for a little less
When you see it all alone.
But it still counts.
Our reward is reaped, and heaped upon the harvest table.
But our comfort, as our breath is, once is not enough.
We think that we are in the flow, but are simply set adrift.
We think that we have found some peace, but are simply resigned to endure the doldrums.
“What use a sail, without the breeze to fill it.” I cried.
And God spoke, “With a notion comes a mighty wind.”
“Oh Lord, how can I, think of things unknown?” I begged.
God offers, “Simply think of me.”
Everyone thinks they’re good at sex.
And I assume they are.
But it’s time we face the fact
It’ really not that hard.
Happiness is a dead end street
You’ll sooner have to back on out
But once you know the way there
You can return where, ever you want.
A question, once answered, will never wonder again.
The only way, to keep wonder alive, is to pose more questions than answers are.
People ask me what I do all day.
I sit quietly, and I weep, is my reply.
So sad, they guess.
Yes – a bit of that. But mostly I am still, to think of things that move me.
And when I’ve moved myself to tears I know, I’ve rubbed up against some truth.
You have so much potential, they say.
I say, and patience too.
For me, you see, the yet is best to come.