You will be set free
if you know this:
it is all divine
for your sake
say the theologians,
it’s a divine
and being filled
to the brim
with the love
justice, mercy, peace
He saw a program featuring the 87th birthday
Celebration for Loretta Lynn and he was
Transported back forty-some years to his
Seventeen years in the Great Commonwealth
Of Kentucky as a young, wet-behind-the-ears
Pastor. He isn’t a country music fan, but
watching the TV program brought back so
Many memories. Who would believe the kid
From the South Side of Chicago would learn
About the ballet, symphony, opera and great
Theater in Nashville and then Louisville while
Listening to the radio play ever so sad,
Soul wrenching songs by George Jones
And Tammy Wynette and then hearing first
Hand about their several affairs — a repeated
One with a former parishioner of his from
His first congregation, a rural church near
The Tennessee border — a guy who would
Walk the sawdust trail for the umpteenth time
Each time Tammy said goodbye to him and
Hello once again to George? He never dreamed
He would be so close to celebrity, especially not
In rural Kentucky at an alter call at a spring
Kim Kardashian is
all the fashion
each and every day.
to much public dismay.
Do the Kardashians
or a share of the take
or does Yahoo
just want to show off
Kardashian cheese cake?
Please, whatever you do,
Yahoo, just give us
all a break —
more relevant news
fewer sponsored sites
and much less
Kardashian cheesy cheese cake.
Along a once quiet road now
busy with the bustle of people
in cars heading here, there,
(where ?) and on the other side
a railroad track, not used often
but often enough for a rumbling
roar loud enough to wake the
dead, is, squeezed between the
two, a triangular-shaped, small
cemetery from a rural past.
The monument dealer wanted
to be buried there for reasons
never specified to the children.
So, his body was placed there
under a small headstone of
Swedish Granite. Then the
man’s wife thirty-some years
later — together, side by side,
bodies which in life were never
particularly comfortable side by
side. The children don’t visit.
They live in other states. Then
for another, the ashes of his
wife were spread in an inland
sea where she loved to swim. He
visits often wandering along the
shore letting the surf slap his
feet. It is as if he is being
anointed with precious oil. He
inhales the fragrance of the
fresh water, the sand and the
west wind and walks on. That
man and his wife have
decided to have their ashes
spread in the dunes where
they love to hike along the
shore. Their children will visit
every summer as they did year
after year and they will walk
along the shore, look up at the
dunes and the trails and out at
the water as it slaps their feet
and they will breathe deeply of
the fresh water’s fragrance.
Mind your own business./There is no such thing as your own business.
Follow the wisest course and be a success./Follow [Jesus] and be crucified.
Drive carefully—the life you save may be your own./Whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for [Jesus] sake will find it.
Law and order/Love
*words of Frederick Buechner from one of his meditations
Today, in history, the Civil War ceased,
but the racial animosity continues to increase.
Nothing to win in this zero sum game,
from lynchings, bombings and blame.
Rain down justice, mercy and peace
so this national nightmare will cease.
We are all God’s children — one human race.
May equality, dignity and natural beauty
shine on everyone’s face.
“If you own your own pain
you won’t get into the blame game.”
“Soon enough we will be leaving.”
Soon enough we can stop scheming.
We see the light of a star
even though the star from afar
has been dead, perhaps,
no longer than a synapse,
or for what may be
the finger snap of infinity,
and so, your little light will shine
long after you are supine.
The white-faced owl perched
On the cannon fifty years after
The fierce fighting ceased. The
Wind ruffled the owl’s feathers,
But the owl’s talons held fast,
Digging deeply into the rusted
Neck of the dead cannon.
“Think only to your educators
for your understanding of
yourself.” —- Fifth grade,
dowdy, matronly, female
of my dreams
who made me
concentrate so she
could educate me —
how I feared, thee.
Freshman in college,
short, fat, lisping, stutter-
who made me
believe in me.
No, just the beard
and love of literature
(who on a beautiful spring day
said to the class, “Go out and play,
er, sit on a stump in the woods
and take it all in.”)
who thought my writing
oh, so mature
for my age.
Who am I to demure
from such affirmation
come from me,
but from thee,
all three —
now and forever
good men (sic) [and women]
to the aid
What is good to learn to type
is good for the party,
(cover the keys/cover the bases/cover the basics)
so don't gripe,
Quite the tripe (quit it).
Get your thumbs out of your butts
and do something ---
before we all go nuts....