My heart says Yes but my mind says No.
Caution ahead! Watch out! Go slow!
Decisions made in anger’s heat,
like winds whistling down a Chicago street,
stir up dust, distort and confuse.
The heart or the mind, which one to use?
Must I understand before I believe?
Are facts required before I achieve
a decision to go or stay around?
What if my heart makes a different sound?

Start with belief, for the time is here
when we must face our deepest fears.
I value reason, but this is a test
when heart and reason must give their best.
Hold your ground, let your heart take the lead.
Reason alone will sometimes concede
to the wishes of those whose cunning and power
seem likely to seize the critical hour.

I’ve learned a lesson that I share with you:
let your heart have a voice in what you do.
Reason alone lacks passion and care,
but together they become a creative pair
to address injustice wherever it’s found,
to remind us that we share a sacred ground,
that all are of value; that we rise or fall
by the way we respond to the urgent call
to live the values on which we agree,
that reason and heart can help us see
that our future depends on the little word “we”
that we have no future if it’s all about “me.”

I am a child of creative light,
light that contends with the darkest night.
In that quiet place, the center of me,
there is a light by which I see
these troubled days through tear-filled eyes,
for it seems no matter how hard we try,
darkness is stronger in every way,
blotting out light’s last feeble ray.

I am made of stardust and cosmic wind,
celestial breezes that always begin
in the gentle wisps that circle the earth,
rain-bearing winds that sustain new birth.
Wisdom, my companion along the way,
speaks of truth and a hopeful day
when children of light, the offspring of stars,
will dismantle the cruel prison bars
that hold so many in vicious hate.
The time will come, I pray not too late,
when all creatures will say: I’m a child of light
and together we’ll stand against the darkest night.

Yes, we are stardust and wind; holy, sacred breath,
we shall live for truth and welcome death
as a message to all who worship power,
the Stardust People no longer cower.
If in death, then let it be;
the light, the light will set you free.

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to
make you something else is the greatest
accomplishment.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson

I am a work in progress.

When I was a child, I wanted to be a superstar.
Then I grew up.

When I was a young man, I thought I knew everything.
Then I grew wise.

Once I thought I would never find love.
Then I met you.

Once it seemed I would live forever.
Then I grew old.

Once I thought death was the end.
Then I heard a voice say:
“Let me introduce you to My Father.”

I am still a work in progress.
Always will be.
Just like you.

A reflection on Matthew 8:3-4

The message you bring sounds too good to be true,
but I’m wondering if you’re honest; can I believe you?
Words are used in so many ways,
they change like the wind from day to day.
I’ve been fooled before, so I’m cautious now.
If you want to convince, let me tell you how.
Show me a life that is grateful and kind,
a gentle spirit, a transformed mind.
Show me your scars; let me see your hands.
I want to know that you are a man
who lives the truth from day to day,
if your life is more than what you say.
I’m moved by the words you’ve spoken today,
but, friend, there’s simply no other way:
It’s a matter of living the things that you say.

When I sit with this picture, I think to myself: I am not alone, not now, not ever. But…the reflection is of myself. Does that contradict the idea of “God with us?” What do you think when you enter the photograph?

I turned the corner, and there it was.
It was as if I had never left.
Uncle Hugh was carrying a chocolate pie
and Aunt Lila had sliced ham as they
went in through the back door, across
the screened-porch and into the kitchen.

Cousin Richard and his sister, Marilyn,
were playing tag in the front yard,
laughingly ignoring all warnings about
not stepping on the Iris plants blooming
purple in the flower bed.

When I got out of the car in the driveway,
I could smell the sweet aroma of
Grandfather’s pipe tobacco and hear
bursts of laughter swirling through the air.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was
standing on holy ground. There in the window, look;
Mother’s lovely smile as she called out:
“He’s here!”

And then the screened-porch door opened
and there stood my Grandmother,
wiping flour from her hands
onto a blue and white apron, then extending
her arms, reaching out to me.
“We’ve been waiting for you,
Come on in.”

Meet a curious Cormorant.

The sleek, black fisherman with a Pelican-like beak, sat quietly on the
limb as I walked along the shoreline at Agua Calente Park, camera clicking all the way. It was as if the bird posed for half an hour, sometimes extending big, strong wings, another time turning its sleek head to the left then to the right. And then, in the midst of its posing, Curious decided to display its amazing ability of self-awareness. The bird is looking at its own reflection in the water and wondering: Who is this bird looking back at me? Why, that’s me. I am seeing myself. I am!

Actually, what prompted its philosophical stare was a small fish swimming by, bite-size, I might add. Curious flopped into the water, disappeared beneath the surface, then popped up with a big smile on its beak. What a disappointment. The Cormorant wasn’t having a moment of philosophical insight as it looked at the water. It had an empty stomach. Seeing this drama from beginning to ending, I now decided to put the camera away
and unwrap my ham and cheese sandwich. Maybe Curious and I are actually related. With a smile and a flutter of its wings, the Cormorant lifted gracefully into the sky where it flew in circles while meditating about the meaning of life and looking for its next meal. Practical bird. I like that.

Footsteps in the sand.
Leading to....?
A memory?
A dream?
Joy or Pain?
Toward something 
or
Away from something?

Spend time with this photograph. See with your heart, not just your mind. Something here awaits your discovery.

He is looking at you.
What does he see?
Not the outside you,
but the inside you.
Will he sing to you,
or fly away?
Yes to both.
This day is a gift.
Sing when you can.
Weep when you must.
Hold tightly and
release gently.
We own nothing.
We possess everything.