We had oysters last night
Large oysters
Raw oysters 
On the half shell
Twelve oysters
Six for each of us
Four varieties 
Of PEI oysters
That’s 
Prince Edward Island
Three times four is twelve
So we had three of each
Of the four kinds
Forgive the foray
Into lower mathematics
Let’s return to the oysters
On the tray set between us
Oysters
Lemon wedges
Waiting to be squeezed
Dripping onto oysters
Open
On the half shell
That tray of pearly oysters
On their rough gray shells
Each set of three
Embraced by bright yellow
Sweet stingy lemon wedges
And on its own low pedestal
Just off center on the tray
A soft almost white
Mound of grated
Grated what?
Parmesan? No too soft looking
Mozzarella? No not soft enough
Having exhausted my current repertoire 
Of likely cheeses, I stretched forth my hand
Delicately pinched a single short string
From atop the elevated pile
Brought it slowly to my nose
Not cheese, not much smell really 
So I ate it
Horseradish
Thankfully pretty mild horseradish

Then came the intimate pleasure of eating the oysters.
But here is where we will discreetly employ that favored metaphorical device
And draw the curtain on our two young white-haired lovers
Facing each other’s eyes and hands and bodies
Across the small wooden table for two
In the small bar-restaurant
In a strip mall of all places 
In quiet off-season Niagara-on-the-Lake

How shall I start a prayer for peace
In my often troubled heart

To whom shall I pray
To God, to Allah, to Yahweh, to Jesus
To one of the Marys
Mary, mother of Jesus
Mary Magdala, tower of strength
Mary of Bethany, resurrection believer
Or to Martha, server of divinity

For what peace shall I pray?
For my own freedom from anger
For my family’s freedom from misunderstandings
For my children’s freedom from heartbreak
For my grandchildren’s freedom to grow
In peace

My, my, my, my
My prayer for peace feels unpeacefully selfish
Like a pearl found buried in a field
That I bought so I could forever miser that pearl
That pearl of peace
Created by what ancient oyster
In what long gone sea
Now a field
Waiting for my shovel
To fling wide the dirt
From that pearl of peace

I imagine God.

I imagine God
in my own image.

I imagine God
in my own image
with my own righteousness.

I imagine God
in my own image.
With my own righteousness,
I create my very own god.

I imagine God
in my own image
with my own righteousness.
I create my very own god,
forgetting that I cannot imagine the infinite.

I imagine God
in my own image
with my own righteousness.
I create my very own god,
forgetting that I cannot imagine the infinite
Divine Being.

I imagine god
in my own image
with my own righteousness.
I create my very own god,
forgetting that I cannot imagine the infinite
Divine Being whom I find in Silence.

Before my dark ink stains
The page is lined white light
Full of emptiness
Quiet, content in its expansive is-ness
Not knowing its only reason for being
Is to hide beneath my thoughts
To become the obscured pristine depths
Beneath my wordy islands

I myself
Am just such
Ego and personality scribbled
Over pure bright light
Beneath my me-ness
Lies the Imago Dei
Light and love
Glimpsed, on occasion, 
Under the endless words
That I call me.

What a wonderful day I’ve had
A quiet morning
waking when I chose
to a still quiet room and world

 Brunch
made by Wendy
eggs, bacon, bread
coffee and tea

the quiet clean up time
with Wendy and I moving
softly around each other
in her small kitchen

afternoon with other friends
listening to music
in a kind of bar
a kind of blues, gospel,
zydeco, rock, whatever mix

back to Wendy’s for a quiet time
then with Wendy back 
to Sharon and Tom’s
for their delicious dinner

wine & salad
roast & horseradish
mashed potatoes & gravy
green beans & creamed corn
fruit & merinque
poetry on the table

an hour more
of relaxed conversation
then back to Wendy’s

A perfect day
with special friends
in a special place

under it all
lies the children
and adults
of Gaza

The uncertain
frightened
people of Israel

I would write
prayers for peace
if I felt worthy

Two ducks we saw them
Male and female
We saw them

Unperturbed
By the suddenly snowy river
Around them
Snow white
Ripples whisper
Waters shimmer

We walk past
They take no notice
Nonetheless
We give them thanks
With our appreciation

If you want peace in the world, be peace. Thich Nhat Hanh

I am become her Hamas
She, my Israel
How is it that we are family
To all others
Yet enemies to each other
Launching blame like bombs

Though it seem pure hubris
Blind, self-centered hubris
To abrogate to our petty fight
The horror of this new old war
Yet this is the only way
I can begin to grasp
The terrifying reality of grievances
That barricade love
And murder forgiveness

I cannot judge the world harshly
Without knowing myself
Part of the holocausts we create.