Somewhere in the Distance

 Somewhere in the Distance

(“Therefore say, ‘Behold, I give to him my covenant of peace.’” Numbers 25:12)

The more I know, the more I do not understand;
the more the certainties, the more the canyons of smoke.
And though the air is filled with ash
and the oceans with reflections of the sun
my world is motionless, save for the unspoken
poetry that lies at my feet.
One day silence is peace,
the next day it is centripetal force
and the quiet bears the weight of the universe.

The more I look, the more I think the world has been
fixed with chewing gum. The more flavors, the better,
I think,
but the chilly air sneaks in through the corners,
the rabbits sneak in through the breaks in the fences.
Some days are paradise,
some days lead to hell,
some days run in circles,
some days lead nowhere at all.

I would stall if I could,
put off the daily pain for another day.
I would procrastinate these whirligig stories
that augur more deeply by their telling. I would
embrace the silence if
the silence was not all I knew.

But somewhere in the distant there are eyes I have never seen;
their arrival is unknown, but days may turn into hope
and dreams into visits from those I wish were closer
and had not departed so soon…
…somewhere in the distance.

I Have not Departed the Faith

 

I Have not Departed the Faith

(“Truly I tell you,” he said, “unless you turn and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:3)

I have not departed the faith;
the faith has departed me.
Once I was a fool and did not mind,
learned love this time, that time, all others love
excelling.

Eventually though I learned the ropes and pinned my
every hope
on ladders I thought were strung to the sky; a
rapture of sorts,
but disconnected from affection or creaturely objections
to environments where mud was excluded.
(Believe me, a little dirt never hurt anyone.)

And so I called this globe earthly and fleshly,
saw the human race erased from dignity and
mortally injured. The fences kept my senses
always suspect and my inclinations always setting
like the moon a hangnail away from nothing new.

I hated tomfoolery and simplicity, though I secretly
longed for play. All was serious those days, so many, many
days, that ringing roses served no purpose because
all fall down eventually.

Presidents would save us; legislation would drive the
grayness from our land. But one win led to another,
and before we could love to clown again,
we invented machinery that ate away every bit
of humanity of any who opposed.

I should have rewritten that. We were the opposition,
and proud of the fact. We stacked our accomplishments high
upon the vaulted ceilings of faulted preachings
and wore red caps to prove we had Made it All
Great again.

I have not departed the faith;
the faith has departed me.
And now I will live a fool again,
walk down the street with Christmas lights
strung from my head to my toes
and a tiny chihuahua who has let
this grandpa fall in love with childhood again.

Shortcut

Shortcut

(“Therefore, when Jesus perceived that they would come and take Him to make him a king, He departed again into a mountain by Himself.” John 6:15)

How well have your shortcuts worked
to bring the king down from the mountain to
slay the mongrels that have slobbered all over your
beloved memories, the golden age, the gilded cage
where you hid pretending that you held the key to
bring back the foursquare families only baby

Boomers

Remember.

Your cage is jaded, the statues you’ve erected to
cannons, generals and frightful confederates
stand next to your churches waving the flag
as if god wanted you to sing (OF thee i SING),
off the stinging sun blocked by the stars and stripe forever.

You’ve got to take the long way round,
ride a donkey, ride an ass,
smell the crowd, the peasant class,
watch the sandals worn through the desert’s dust
and the sun bake the faces of those you
thought you could outrun in your glittering limousines.

Who do you want him to overthrow?
What do you want him to enforce?
Your plans? Your course of events?
Did you plan to be left behind?
Did you take the scepter and declare, in the name of

God and

Country

The king was surely on your side?

You want a ruler to enforce your borders while

Christ weeps over the masonry hearts
beautifully mortared just inches outside his hearing.