I hear the wind blowing at this
early morning hour. Gusts rattle
the lemon tree just outside my
window while red bougainvillea
blossoms swirl upward, spiraling
in a dance-offering to the Mystery
of approaching light.

In my prayers this morning, I remember
the holy innocents who from all time
have suffered because of someone else’s
cruelty and power. The Herods of history
have become the power brokers of this
hour and their cruelty has not diminished.

May justice and mercy continue to shine
the revealing Light of truth on the sinister
shadows lurking to use innocent children,
the helpless, the vulnerable, for evil’s benefit.
May all sentient beings, trusting and hoping,
living by intention or instinct, find this day
to be peaceful. We are all of us sustained by
an inherent hope, stronger at times than
others, but hope, nonetheless. May it thrive
today in peace. May it be so. Amen

I draw a line in the sand.
I will not be intimidated.
I refuse to be bullied or broken.
The efforts of dysfunctional systems,
disillusioned or disappointed people
will not foster fear.
I have been afraid before.
No more.

I believe courage is contagious,
that ultimately indifference or
indecision will undermine the best plans.
I will not return violence for violence.
The goal is far too noble. Yet,
I will work energetically against
hatred and injustice.

I draw a line in the sand.
It is a line of determined resistance.
It is called Hope.

Here is some often given,
infrequently appreciated, advice:

Keep your eye on the road.
Keep your hands on the wheel.
Don’t follow too closely.
Turn the music down!
Watch your speed.
Don’t forget to signal.

Teaching your child to drive is just
about as comfortable as explaining
where babies come from. Hire
somebody else to do it, the driving
part, I mean.

You ever get any good advice?
“To thine own self be true…”
“Ask not what your country can do
for you…”
“Follow your bliss…”
“Do unto others…”

There’s a lot of good advice around,
bad advice, too. So how do you know
the difference? I guess it all depends on
your starting point: “What’s in it for me…”
or “Is there something bigger than me involved
here?” Principle. Core values. Spiritual
commitment.

Remember, Jesus said: “If you don’t stand for
something, you’ll fall for anything.”

Well, he should have. It’s good advice.

This is a grand and glorious day
because my wife is on the way
to pick up Butch! What can I say!
We’re getting a dog today!

“It’s a surprise,” she said, but we’ve talked before
so I know what I’ll see when she walks through that door,
a Lab or a Shepherd or as Bluetick Coon.
I just can’t wait. She’ll be here soon.

I bought a leash and his collar’s here.
I’ll join the guys at the dog park near
the sporting goods store at 1st and Penn,
they’re going to be jealous when we walk in.

I see our car just down the street.
The moment has come for me to meet
Big Butch, who’s truly man’s best friend.
This is a story that’s about to end
with happiness, joy and pride.

But when she walked through the family room door,
I fell on my knees on the hardwood floor,
and I said, “Sweetheart, where’s my best friend?”
And this is where my story ends.

She got a dog. That much is true,
but he wasn’t a Lab or a Tennessee Blue.
She said, “Betty Sue’s the cutest thing!”
And I thought to myself: how dare she bring
that pocket-sized creature in here!

Still on my knees, I looked eye to eye
with an object that made me want to cry.
There in her pocket was an animal that
looked like a healthy New York rat!
I’m not walking THAT with the guys!

Betty Sue is the queen of the household now.
Maybe someday…maybe somehow
I’ll have my own “man’s best friend”
but until that day I’ll just pretend.
Excuse me, please.
I’ve got to go walk Betty Sue.

Today will be a revealing
the curtain will be pulled aside
to expose the best and the worst
we will laugh
we will lament
we will discover how deeply the
roots of disunity have delved into
human hearts
we will watch for signs of humanity
acted out on the stage of public encounter.

Today will be a defining
we will be known for who we are
and what we are
the world watches and waits
and wonders
we will emerge in strength
or in sorrow
today will redefine or reclaim a dream

The world waits with uneasy anticipation
for the revealing of the sons and daughters
of truth, mercy, hope

My friend told me today about the
stunning beauty of hymn and prayer,
liturgy and the soaring power of words.

I could think only of a small yellow bird
whose eyes penetrated the curiosity of my soul.

Eucharist, the taste of bread and wine.
Eucharist, the smell of the lemon tree
in my backyard.

Stole and robe, cross and crown.
The flowing green of a mountain forest,
a carpet of red and gold leaves returning
to the earth.

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes.
Stones concealing the caverns of the dead.

The first cry of life. The last tear shed.
Vacant tombs that hold only the laughter of life.

What is sacred?
What is secular?
Does it matter?

Wind through flaming leaves,
golden extensions of the sap
and source of life, rusts and reds,
leaves beginning to brown at the
edges. Wind through flaming
leaves creates a symphony that
causes a sigh to seep from Mozart’s
grave.

But the rustling rhythms, rising and
falling to the fluid motion of the baton,
fade as leaf after leaf separates from
its hold on life, tumbles and floats in
the mix of brilliant colors to rest gently
on the cushion of yesterday’s arrivals.

Divine carpet. Elegant amalgam of
fading wonder, colors that painted
the world with breath-capturing
beauty, now sinking slowly into the
richness of aroma, texture, nourishment.
That golden leaf, that one just there,
becomes once again what it was in
order to be reformed into what it
will be.

Wind through flaming leaves,
breeze of death and birth, host at
the banquet of our nourishment,
blow with sacred gentleness.
Let me fall into the faint memory
of a former journey, a memory
fraught with comfort and happy
consolation.

Earth to earth,
leaf to leaf,
birth me as the brilliance
of new life.

I asked you to help me pick up the pieces of my broken life,
and you told me reasons why I should be happy.

When we met on the street, you said “How are you doing?”
and then you told me all about your life.

That day I called you when I learned of my father’s death,
I could hardly speak. You told me God wanted him more
than I did.

How callous and careless we are with each other.
Hear me. See me.
Speak with your heart, not your mind.

Tomorrow I have my surgery, and I am so afraid.
Are you afraid, too?
Is it safer for you to engage my mind rather
than my soul?
I do not need reasons or answers or advice.
I need you.
Please.

My Grandpa likes to watch football games,
and every Sunday it’s always the same.
He gets his Bud and the big stuffed chair.
He warns us: “Don’t nobody get in my hair,
cause today is the day I’ve been waitin’ for,
today the Cowboys play that average Bart Starr
and his cheeseheads from somewhere up north.”

“My boy, Roger, is gonna’ eat their cheese!
It’s likely to be a blowout breeze.
In fact, it’ll be over before the first half ends.
Can’t understand why those Packers spend
so much money to get to Big D
when any half-wit can clearly see
that America’s Team is the best.”

Well, the whistle blew and the Cowboys kicked.
What happened next was just too durn quick.
They took the ball on their own 25,
juked and jived while Grandpa cried:
“Get that guy before it’s too late.”
The touchdown left him in an awful state.
It got worse as the day went on.

Now, here’s a fact that you ought to know:
when Grandpa gets mad, he talks real slow.
“I…don’t…like…this!”, and when he does
I’d get out of the way if I was you, Cuz.
He’s been known to roll on the living room floor,
cryin’ and kickin’, his attitude’s poor.
He don’t take losin’ easy.

Well, sir, the game was a blowout. You could say that.
When the last whistle blew Grandpa just sat
in his big easy chair, starin’ at the wall
when my cousin, Bubba, walked down the hall
and called out to Grandpa: “Did we win the game?”
I dived behind the sofa cause I could see the flame
torchin’ off in Grandpa’s brain.

When the ambulance left with Grandpa inside,
we thought this might be his last Cowboy ride,
but in an hour or two he gave us a call:
“I’ll be waitin’ for you outside the Mall.”
Once in the car, he appeared quite tame,
til he said: “Let’s get ready for next week’s game.”
O Lord, here we go again.