Lonely
as a whisper in a cave
as the color of vodka
as a seagull
on a city bench
no bread
too tired to fly
as the helpless leaf
falling from the branch
mid-autumn
as the basketball court
you grew up near
no nets
paint fading
Is this me writing
or is this cancer?
it’s the cross I bear
and I don’t have the answer
In the final hours of his life
Jesus asked God
if there was any other way
besides the cross.
Then he said
if it be your will
I will follow it
We make so many assumptions
about death;
That it is to feared, a punishment,
visited upon our last breath.
We simply don’t know,
what happens in the silence-
so we assume it is to be feared,
and we cling with violence.
‘rage,rage against the dying of the light’
was a wonderful poem
but was of terrible insight.
To fight nothing and no one
includes death too-
as Jesus prayed in the garden
his faith in God’s plan grew.
He accepted torture
when we’re asked to accept a simple passing-
I now embrace the love of Christ’s plan
for me, for everlasting
“Christ, place me gently in the present moment, make me a gentle servant for your peace and love.”
So at the end of the day I go over things and see if I have lived the prayer I have written that morning. I’ve been very busy today and have shared what I can- a smile here, a joke there; at other times, it’s more like, “God, redirect my attention from wanting to eviscerat thee man in front of me in line at walgreen’s who is cashing in a fistfull of lottery tickets, the machine saying ‘you’re a winner’ each time. I disagree.
I don’t think being a spiritually – minded person has anything to do with what we think; it’s the awareness of what we think. The observing presence within the mind growing in the mind- perhaps this is one definition of mindfullness.
Lately I’ve been feeling a hopelesness that just sort of hangs around me like a fog. My feet feeling like bricks; the clouded sky a portrait of doubt and fear.
Knowing that the cancer can spread at any time and the prognosis is terminal; the fear mechanism of my mind had been going wild. I wrote this prayer and it has helped immensely: “Christ, when I feel hopeless direct my thinking to how I may be useful to others.” That was a few days ago. I haven’t felt hopeless since. When I’m not looking for it, it’s there. When I look for it, it runs away.
I treasure the time I spend with God in the morning by the east end water, writing, meditating and praying. I write my morning prayer and get out there, living it to the best of my ability, knowing that in Christ all things are possible.
Today I’m excited to be alive, knowing that kindness heals all relationships, and no one heals alone, and thanks to you, i’m not alone.
Fear of death
is the shadow of the moon-
cascading into space,
out of reach, gone too soon.
We clutch and grasp
because we don’t know when or why
our number will come up,
in winter or July.
I wrote this prayer
this morning after meditation,
I wrote it with force,
and spiritual desperation:
“Christ, I’m leaving it all up to you– who I love, who loves me, and when I die. It’s all in your loving care and I walk away from the concerns, turning my attention to the task of living life.”
I wanna die
where I was born-
for it’s lonely down here,
the quiet in the middle of the storm.
I wanna die
in that hospital room;
i’ve never been back
since 1973 in June.
I wanna die
and dream into my mother’s arms
in that little hospital in newton
and listen to her songs.
I hope the doctors and nurses
won’t make much of a fuss-
I wanna die where i came from
I’m not askin’ for much.
I’ll fall into the arms of something,
the great voice from above,
with just this one regret-
I NEVER FELL IN LOVE.