He thought about it and said,
“The ophthalmologist missed
it, darn it. If he had caught it
sooner, I wouldn’t have lost
a quarter sight in that eye. I
would have been taking those
drops for two years instead
of just the one. I’ve only taken
those drops for one year. I
know that because I hated
the thought of taking a drop
in my eye every day for the
rest of my life and I have just
recently gotten used to it, so
it couldn’t have been very long.
I’ll ask the pharmacist how long
I have been taking those eye
drops….” “Two years she said.
I could have sworn. Well, I guess
Doc did all right. Tempus Fugit.
Oh, don’t tell me it’s already time
again for me to have another
colonoscopy.”

The day is dry
The damp has fled
My lungs still cry
But I move ahead

The wind blows strong
The sun does shine
My strides are long
Exercise is fine

I ride my bike
I jog the trails
Like flint does strike
— good for what ails

And now to rest
And breathe so clear
I gave it my best
I stand and cheer

I hesitate
My joints still scream
I tempt not fate
It’s all a dream

When morning strikes,
I’ll feel strong
I’ll ride my bike
And jog trails so long

Mañana en la mañana
And so I sing
My new mantra
— what tomorrow will bring

I read meditations which espouse
multi-demographic/ethnic inclusivity
— life and celebrations without borders
and yet, I camp in one county,

which is, according to those who
keep such statistics not to mention
those of us who just look at the
residents, the unhealthiest county

in the state and live just one county
south which is the healthiest county
in the state and I might just as well
be camping in one universe and living

just south in another universe. I see
all the grotesquely fat, out-of-shape
people in that one county where
I camp and all the lean, in-shape

people in the other county where
I live and I have no idea how to
bring these two counties together
in grace and wonder and love

let alone in any way of addressing
the Grand Canyon cavernous gap
in health matters between two
back to back counties

let alone what eternal verities might
bring them together. I’d stand on the
border calling for glorious inclusivity
and each would say, “Say what?”

“Oh, North is North, and South is South,
and never the twain shall meet.”*

*with apologies to Rudyard Kipling for the
paraphrase.

It’s a balancing act —
reading the uplifting,

inspiring meditations
and then reading the

depressing news of
the day — the

violence, cruelty
criminality, buf-

foonery. He won’t
read any news of

the day before some-
thing that says

everything is okay.
It’s foundational,

the rock of love upon
which the incoherent

silliness rests and
rests, too, upon his

breast. But then he
realizes that he is

standing on the found-
ational, creational

rock that lives and
breathes and dances

under his feet playing
footsy with him, stir-

ring the Gene Kelly
and Fred Astaire as

he does the silly and
gives it a leap in

the air in the trust
that he would land

on his feet. And
by grace, he does,

most of the time.
It’s a balancing act.

“…the beauty of diversity, the holiness of essence, 
and the evolutionary pull of communion.”
    — Sr. Joan Brown, Franciscan

1.

He looks around and sees so much green, so much red, 
     the vast spectrum of light;
he holds still and hears bird song, laughter, cries, 
     barking, waves crashing, lightning cracking, 
     thunder roaring, symphonies playing;
he sees diverse forms, animals, architecture, plants, 
     fish, the human race in all its glorious ethnicities….

2.

He feels the blood beat of life in all;
     he hears the breath of life in all;
he inhales the glorious scent of life in all;
     he touches the earth and reaches to the sky;
     his arms swirl in it all….

3.

He embraces the Whirling Dervish love that 
     dances in, through, under, over, around all — the 
glorious creation imbued with eternity —
     Infinite, Immanent and Intimate.

I got a call.
I looked at the number: 1-616-blah, blah, blah.
I didn’t recognize it.
I let it ring out. No message.
I called the number just for the heck of it.
I got a “The # you dialed is no longer in service.”
Say what! I got the call and called back right away.
If I had answered, I’m sure it would have been a recorded message
from some person, group, organization, business trying to sell something,
get rich and join the one percent of one percent
in lording it over the other 99.99 percent
and the beat goes on
and on
and on.
It’s nothing new, this coveting, this desiring to lord it over everybody else.
It’s been going on forever, since
Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel
and so on and so forth.
You would think people would learn.
I mean it didn’t turn out so well for those four —
cast out of the garden, violence, murder.
But we keep shouting about it
and protesting it
and saying that the system is unjust
and there have to be laws against the gross
acquisition of mammon, the hoarding, etc.
And, of course, hardly anything gets done
because of the system where the ones who
could do something about it have been
bought off and if you try to get them on the
phone to tell them to knock it off, you get
“The # you dialed is no longer in service.”

We are protected in joy
that such joy does not
take us into hellish hall-

ucinations for when we
fall into hellish hall-
ucinations we are pro-

tected and in sorrow
that such sorrow does
not take us down unto

death, for when we are
taken down unto death
we are protected for

Love Incarnate has been
to all the places that be
and protects us from

that which would des-
troy that which we ex-
perience and that which

we be. Our highs are
high and our lows are
low and we give thanks

for the one hundred
eighty degrees between
them to feel and feel

safe within all universal
experiences experienced
by Love Incarnate that

we feel but stay safe
within the comforting,
affirming arms of the

Infinite, Immanent
and Intimate that reach
over, under, around and

through the 360 degree
whirling dervish dance
of creation.

If there is no evidence of it in the now
why bother to affirm it at all?
If it is only something in the past,
why bother to look for it now?
Why bother with
the wisdom of the Buddha,
the wisdom of Confucius,
the wisdom of the Tao,
the wisdom of the holy writings of Judaism,
the wisdom of the holy writings of Christianity,
the wisdom of the holy writings of Islam,
the wisdom of the Upanishads,
the wisdom of the Ancient Myths,
the wisdom of the Greek philosophers?
Can you hear the Buddha, Laotzu,
Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, the voices
of Hinduism, Aristotle, Plato? They are
calling us to join them in the mystery
of life, death and eternity.
Can you hear them call for integrity,
morality, ethics, courage, sacrifice,
participatory suffering, mercy, forgive-
ness, grace, peace for individuals in
community?
Look.
They are all here.
It is all here.
The eternal, loving mystery
is here —
now.

Wind whips from the west.
Seeds helicopter to earth.
Maples herald spring.

I feel pain at the pain
that you live through.

If I were to wish away
the pain I have watching you,

both of us I would betray,
for my experience of pain

is prompted by my love for you
which then would fly away

and I would be bereft of love’s
descending dove

known in the pain I ache
and share with you,

so I covet and embrace the pain
that confirms my undying love for you.

*idea from a meditation by Frederick Buechner