Sunday, July 17, 2011
childhood
when I think
of being a kid
suddenly I smell
fresh-cut grass
hear the mourning dove
moan
I smell
wood smoke
and am comforted
damp earth
the sound of rain drops
on forest leaves
pine needles
were a bed
on which to nap
in the back yard
while the bark dripped
of christmas sap
the musty barn
old wood
smelled of dirt
pain chips in the grass
at the entrance
an anomaly in the city
creaky stiars
led to mysteries
in the loft
saturated with spirits
of the dead
in army green
banana seat bicycle
I was a racing star
hearing the cheers
of my fans
as I crossed the line
first
the crackle of
a needle on vinyl
squeezing out music
in the grooves
music that filled
all the empty spaces
and let me fly
on fairy dust
and let me dream
Ii was a super hero
I was the first woman president
I was a leader
that saved the world
from itself
I heard the sadness
in the dove's song
but I also heard the hope
imagined the wind
on its wings
after all, it could fly
and now I hear it
up in the trees
on a late summer evening
reminding me of treasures
simplicity
reminding me
to dream
ruins
they're tearing down
the old school
and people are weeping
it didn't meet the codes
they couldn't afford
to keep it standing
but it
holds
peoples' lives
connects children
and grandchildren
they remember When
as another slab
of concrete
shatters on the ground
through the clouds
of dirt
and gravel
people drive by
slowly
as if in a funeral procession
or rubber-necking at a car wreck
silently
watching it all
fall apart
a sanctuary
a container
of snapshots of the past
moments frozen
all looking so perfect
in retrospect
coming down
broken
dust to dust
and
ashes to ashes
all my life
I was moving on
here and there
packing up
the one constant
the thread
that held all the pieces
together
was
the Sanctuary
candlelight and broken bread
grape juice and desert epics
billowy costumes
formal procession
drama in word
redemption offered
in water and fire
the cup and the stole
and like a giant yellow
Caterpillar
huge sharp teeth
heavy, crushing, biting
it all falls down
shattered
stone upon stone
teeth set on edge
fire and smoke
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
broken chalice
in the rubble
torn pages
from an empty book
echoes of pontification
faded in the air
splintered wood
once carved, once beautiful
all coming down
no longer viable
no longer life-giving
no longer
useful
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
in the midst
of the rubble
I search
the old school
and people are weeping
it didn't meet the codes
they couldn't afford
to keep it standing
but it
holds
peoples' lives
connects children
and grandchildren
they remember When
as another slab
of concrete
shatters on the ground
through the clouds
of dirt
and gravel
people drive by
slowly
as if in a funeral procession
or rubber-necking at a car wreck
silently
watching it all
fall apart
a sanctuary
a container
of snapshots of the past
moments frozen
all looking so perfect
in retrospect
coming down
broken
dust to dust
and
ashes to ashes
all my life
I was moving on
here and there
packing up
the one constant
the thread
that held all the pieces
together
was
the Sanctuary
candlelight and broken bread
grape juice and desert epics
billowy costumes
formal procession
drama in word
redemption offered
in water and fire
the cup and the stole
and like a giant yellow
Caterpillar
huge sharp teeth
heavy, crushing, biting
it all falls down
shattered
stone upon stone
teeth set on edge
fire and smoke
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
broken chalice
in the rubble
torn pages
from an empty book
echoes of pontification
faded in the air
splintered wood
once carved, once beautiful
all coming down
no longer viable
no longer life-giving
no longer
useful
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
in the midst
of the rubble
I search
Saturday, July 2, 2011
rip cord
sunny morning
a spirit
a wish
of daring
strapped in harness
ascending with cables
up
up
above the city
above the crowds
above the church steeples
higher
above it all
adrenaline rush
time standing still
the things that bother me
down there
are as small
as the ant-sized people
below
I can breathe
laugh at nothing
none of it
weighs me down
none of it matters
and then, a pull
whoosh!
I'm falling
falling
falling toward
water
trees
the earth
knowing
that I won't crash
another tug
and I'm flying
soaring
arms outstretched
in a moment of
weightlessness
elusive freedom
from it all
no parents
none of the fears
they instilled in me
fears of flying
of rising above
arms wide open
heart exposed
to life and air
for better and worse
a parable
for living
breaking free
soaring
defying
oppressive gravity
unconcerned by mortality
eyes wide open
to remember
the moment
feet back on
the ground
my own weight
hard against
the surface
I will remember
what it felt like
for a moment
to soar
Thursday, June 16, 2011
And God said.... Dance
In the Beginning, there was Beauty
no one knows how it began or
when exactly
it just
Was
Beauty Was
And God who is All Things
God who is Mother Father Child Goodness
Young Old All Things Living
God created
God worked with Hands and Womb
with Stuff
and formed trees and birds and
animals and rocks and plains
sun moon and sky and water
and said
WOW
Then God chuckled as if amused by
a secret
and She took earth-- damp dirt
with grass and minerals
and made a man and made a
woman
they were created
connected
they knew intinctively
that they needed each other
whole in themselves
but so much more
abundant
together
and they were naked
but it didn't matter
because it was all Good
it all so very Good
they made love and they giggled
they danced and they ate
they swam in the ocean
and brushed against fishy scaley things
that tickled their toes
they climbed trees
built things, opened their mouths
to taste the rain
and every day they said,
"thank you" to the God who created
it all...
they ate fruit and vegtables of the
garden naming them as they went
and it was good, it was all so very
Good
God smiled and God laughed at their
frivolity
and like any good parent
God ached for them
knowing that the gates were open
and one day they'd walk through them
and the rest of the world
would be theirs
and with it would come
heartache and sorrow
opprtunities to try and fail
and try again
God hoped they would remember
where they came from
that they would carry this beauty
with them
draw strength from the magnificence
of their creation
and grow
Grow...
it was a risk God
was willing to take
to give them the fullness
of Life....
So, for now, God said
Dance
and never forget
the music out of which
you
were born....
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Living on the Outside
It has been almost 20 months since I handed in my ordination papers. At first, we felt like we needed to find a community in which to worship. I didn't want to go to a United Methodist Church again-- that felt too much like dating your ex-husband! We tried the Episcopalians and the Lutherans, and both congregations were very nice and yet it didn't feel right. It felt too much like we were forcing a relationship to happen-- perhaps like feeling like after the divorce you absolutely MUST remarry? Sometimes when someone exits a long-term relationship they need to know what it feels like to be single again. To remember who they are, what they love, who they are in and of themselves, before they can enter into a healthy relationship and not make the same mistakes again.
After all, I had been a part of Church since the womb. I have never known what it's like Outside.
It's actually quite beautiful out here. The colors are varied and rich. You don't come upon the same pattern twice in one day. There is a whole different perspective out here.
At first, being Outside was terrifying. I only knew the rules Inside. I knew how people functioned, how they related, what was expected. People fell into behavioral patterns. We had our scripts that we memorized, our theme songs. I'm not putting down being on the Inside. Many of you on the Inside have always been free to come and go as you pleased. I never left. I was there 24/7 from the time I was born.
I didn't know the rules out here, and what I've come to learn is that the rules change all the time, because people are so different. At first I scrambled to find some pattern to go by. But now I live in the uncertainty and every day I anticipate surprises. No, it's not always pleasant and sometimes I get tired of people and all the stimulation! The world, after all, is a world of extroverts, and it's hard to be an introvert in an extroverted world! Sometimes it's downright exhausting, but I've learned how to pull back and get re-nourished.
Even the people I work with in the so-called "secular world" are so different. We all come from different backgrounds and traditions. If we didn't work together, chances are we'd never stumble over each other. Some go to church faithfully, some don't. But we pray for each other. We support each other. We love each other. We are a mixed-up, sometimes crazy community. But when the you-know-what hits the fan, we can count on each other. I love the people I work with. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that! But isn't family like that, too? Some I love more than others. I know who to go to for a hug or a prayer. I know who I can cry with and who I can't.
I remember sitting in church about 25 years ago and they sang, "Make Me A Captive, Lord." I had a physical reaction to that hymn. I know, I can dissect it theologically as to what the writer meant, but I have always hated that hymn. Out here, outside, I feel free. I can think, I can question, I can wonder, I can look at things from a completely different perspective and see the beauty and truth. And no lightning has struck me yet!
Jesus is always there. I always come back to Jesus. He's always been a very real part of my journey; his teachings, his story. I have experienced the power of his resurrection over and over again. I've always thought that Jesus himself gets bored with Church. And I think it breaks his heart to see some of the things that go on in his name. When he walked on this earth, he never spent too much time in one place, because life, especially his physical life, is so short. There's too many places to go, things to think and learn, people to know, truths to be learned. He was always moving, searching, seeing, teaching, touching, and marveling at God's beauty all over the place.
People ask me what I am. I'm no longer a United Methodist. I am a Christian. I am a follower of the Living Christ, a Child of God. I don't need to be in a category, especially since when you get put in one, people think they know you. And there is much, much more to me to learn about than what can be contained in a category.
In my hospice work, I meet all kinds of people. Some are very connected to a Church, and yet there are a surprising number who aren't, but who have managed to find the peace of Christ out here on the Outside. They are not afraid of death, trusting in the God who makes all things New. I have seen such beauty and peace at the moment of death as people leave this earth. It's like they fly. They are free for the first real time in their lives.
Out here on the Outside, there is Life and Love. There's a lot of uncertainty, because life isn't summed up in a creed. I like following Jesus, the risen Christ, all over the place. I know I am sustained by Spirit, by deep, eternal Love, and I never walk alone.
I had to leave home in order to find that out. And yet, I've discovered that Home is wherever God is, and God is.... everywhere.
After all, I had been a part of Church since the womb. I have never known what it's like Outside.
It's actually quite beautiful out here. The colors are varied and rich. You don't come upon the same pattern twice in one day. There is a whole different perspective out here.
At first, being Outside was terrifying. I only knew the rules Inside. I knew how people functioned, how they related, what was expected. People fell into behavioral patterns. We had our scripts that we memorized, our theme songs. I'm not putting down being on the Inside. Many of you on the Inside have always been free to come and go as you pleased. I never left. I was there 24/7 from the time I was born.
I didn't know the rules out here, and what I've come to learn is that the rules change all the time, because people are so different. At first I scrambled to find some pattern to go by. But now I live in the uncertainty and every day I anticipate surprises. No, it's not always pleasant and sometimes I get tired of people and all the stimulation! The world, after all, is a world of extroverts, and it's hard to be an introvert in an extroverted world! Sometimes it's downright exhausting, but I've learned how to pull back and get re-nourished.
Even the people I work with in the so-called "secular world" are so different. We all come from different backgrounds and traditions. If we didn't work together, chances are we'd never stumble over each other. Some go to church faithfully, some don't. But we pray for each other. We support each other. We love each other. We are a mixed-up, sometimes crazy community. But when the you-know-what hits the fan, we can count on each other. I love the people I work with. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that! But isn't family like that, too? Some I love more than others. I know who to go to for a hug or a prayer. I know who I can cry with and who I can't.
I remember sitting in church about 25 years ago and they sang, "Make Me A Captive, Lord." I had a physical reaction to that hymn. I know, I can dissect it theologically as to what the writer meant, but I have always hated that hymn. Out here, outside, I feel free. I can think, I can question, I can wonder, I can look at things from a completely different perspective and see the beauty and truth. And no lightning has struck me yet!
Jesus is always there. I always come back to Jesus. He's always been a very real part of my journey; his teachings, his story. I have experienced the power of his resurrection over and over again. I've always thought that Jesus himself gets bored with Church. And I think it breaks his heart to see some of the things that go on in his name. When he walked on this earth, he never spent too much time in one place, because life, especially his physical life, is so short. There's too many places to go, things to think and learn, people to know, truths to be learned. He was always moving, searching, seeing, teaching, touching, and marveling at God's beauty all over the place.
People ask me what I am. I'm no longer a United Methodist. I am a Christian. I am a follower of the Living Christ, a Child of God. I don't need to be in a category, especially since when you get put in one, people think they know you. And there is much, much more to me to learn about than what can be contained in a category.
In my hospice work, I meet all kinds of people. Some are very connected to a Church, and yet there are a surprising number who aren't, but who have managed to find the peace of Christ out here on the Outside. They are not afraid of death, trusting in the God who makes all things New. I have seen such beauty and peace at the moment of death as people leave this earth. It's like they fly. They are free for the first real time in their lives.
Out here on the Outside, there is Life and Love. There's a lot of uncertainty, because life isn't summed up in a creed. I like following Jesus, the risen Christ, all over the place. I know I am sustained by Spirit, by deep, eternal Love, and I never walk alone.
I had to leave home in order to find that out. And yet, I've discovered that Home is wherever God is, and God is.... everywhere.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
depression
i've kicked and screamed and ran from you and still you descended enveloped caught me
i couldn't name you and doctors ran blood tests for mono and still
life was exhausting
i lit candles
i read how to be happy books
i wrote poetry
and i bore the shame of not being able to get a grip
i didn't have enough faith apparently i didn't pray right i didn't trust god i tried i tried i tried
i couldn't will you away i couldn't banish you i couldn't call on the holy spirit to wash you away
another way i was just not enough
i wasn't enough for you my valiant opponent who would not be named
and then the towers fell and they fell on me i was pinned i was broken i was defeated
ultimately finally by you
but a gentle spirit a gentle heart came to me and named you
gave my faceless nameless enemy an identity and so opened a door just a crack
naming you gave you less power claiming you gave me more
it is was it is it was what it was and so i live with you
but in claiming you i walked through a door and followed the light and learned
how to use your shadows to make my picture more beautiful more real
as foe you defeated me
as friend you enriched me, allowed me to feel and to love and to hurt and to heal
you are a part of me
i surrender
to life
Sunday, May 8, 2011
memorial
school was out summer was starting my first year of college and i
couldn't wait to get back to you see you see for myself that you were ok
it was may
but when i finally saw you you weren't ok you looked away into the distance
over my shoulder as if you saw another world a place where you were headed and
none of us knew about it yet
you haunted the rooms of your own house that weekend as if floating as if not seeing
us as if not fully occupying your body almost as if you'd already started shedding it but i
didn't understand i tried to hold your hand and it was limp i tried to make you laugh and you
just stared always looking somewhere else as if you were waiting for a train or a visitor
an appointment known only to you
we went to see indiana jones and the temple of doom to get our minds off of death and i
wondered whose idea was this? as the woman in need of salvation dangled into the fiery pit
while indiana tried to save her up down up down saved doomed saved doomed i wondered who
was teasing me and i begged them silently to stop i was sure you were seeing all the references to
death and being as tortured as i was but when we came out you were giggling like a little girl
for the first time all weekend a light in your eyes from the adventure the good guy won again
saved the girl saved the day and the story had a happy ending
the weekend ended it was time to come home we made flimsy plans to bring you to our house
to stay to visit later in the summer and your eyes didn't betray you didn't tell us the truth of
what you knew but you hugged me and for a few moments you were present fully in your body
again and you told me you loved me you told me to believe in myself you told me to never forget
how much you loved me and you held my face before you drifted off again into a place i couldn't see
couldn't touch and couldn't follow you
it was the last time i saw you it was may endings and beginnings graduations and reunions
spring ending summer beginning freedom for some vacation time margaritas by the pool time to
exhale it was may memorial weekend the last time i saw you on the first day of june you left and
went to that place that you'd glimpsed just days before that none of us could see that none of us
wanted to speak about and that indiana had saved the woman from but he couldn't save you
none of us could save you
27 years later memorial day is still not a happy time but a haunting time that reminds me of
indiana jones and that damned temple of doom
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