We looked on, the lot of us, at the balcony. Hope ran through us as we waited for Peter’s successor. Whom had Our Lord chosen through the cardinals? Would he be like John Paul, his holy predecessor? We had been busy with our monthly book report club, when the house we were at received a phone call, it was my mom! White smoke was being issued out of the chimney! Habemus Papam! We had a Pope!
Gone sour now
Bleating motherless across the pasture
Birdsong through the dank gray
Young thrust into last year’s nest
Done weary, sobbing cold.
Infantile scream
Painless through repetition, only,
Now and then and always?
Dark lights sigh out and let dim.
Falling star
Stripped of the sky, where are you?
Jewel in the earth, forsaken,
Burnt out now, tripping green in decay.
Burnished throat
Caked with platinum, silver, or lead
Bed of birdsong decimated
Crane’s love-blood, preventing.
I sit here watching the brilliant white sheets dance in the wind, illumined by the warm sun until their whiteness blinds you.
rain runs slick over the slate shingles: dripping,
dropping slow across wet stone, slipping into iron gutters.
the gables look out onto--into--grey sky, and
the greyness mists onto cold pane and screen and sill.
lonesome winds whisper aside the curtains and eaves
(ever so slightly) dropping, slight breath, and listen:
oh, so softly spoken: it will not be long, love . . .
so green and grey--grey and green. and I--I heed
absentmindedly and hear the Irish and the music
as wandering, wondering, my thoughts
The song of life starts when we are born
then follows us as we grow
It shows the fear, the love, the pain
and then it shows happiness again
It shows the faith we have in God
It shows the hope we get from above
It plays the joy, the laughter, the shame
It plays the tears, that fall like rain
It plays the sweet and plays the sour
going on hour after hour
Never ceasing in its strain
Soaring, hoping, calling again
screeching, running, jumping, falling
howling, clutching, grabbing, touching
It is impossible to rule a nation without God and the Bible.
--George Washington, 1st Pres. Of the United States
Hello,
I am....Hmm....Who am I? Am I, the am I used to be, or am I the am, I am now? Who knows? I won't go on forever about me, telling everything, my life isn't done yet; and who wants a cliffhanger?
My first experience in an airplane was uneventful. I flew from D.C, to Germany in the evening. My seat was in the middle row of a plane so large it could be a boat. The window was too far away to see out of properly, and it was too dark outside to matter. I was also too tired to care much; the flight was seven hours long.