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
Trying to Pray for Peace
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
Imagining God: A Nested Meditation
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.
Rainy Day Nested Meditation
The sun shines. The sun shines although hidden behind clouds. The sun shines. Although hidden behind clouds the sun shines just as brightly, as steadily, as always. The sun shines although hidden behind clouds. The sun shines just as brightly, as steadily, as always, even when all I see are rain gray clouds. The sun shines. Although hidden behind clouds, the sun shines just as brightly, as steadily, as always. Even when all I see are rain gray clouds, I believe the light of the sun sustains my life. The sun shines, although hidden behind clouds. The sun shines just as brightly, as steadily, as always, even when all I see are rain gray clouds. I believe the light of the sun sustains my life as The Love of the Son sustains my Life.
Palimpsest
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.
Dust to Dust: A Nested Meditation
I am just dust. I am just dust feeling like something more. I am just dust. Feeling like something more, I believe my own thoughts. I am just dust feeling like something more. I believe my own thoughts until I find Silence. I am just dust feeling like something more. I believe my own thoughts. Until I find Silence, I do not know myself. I am just dust feeling like something more. I believe my own thoughts until I find Silence. I do not know myself to be sacred dust. I am just dust feeling like something more. I believe my own thoughts until I find Silence. I do not know myself to be sacred dust, sparkling and dancing. I am just dust feeling like something more. I believe my own thoughts. Until I find Silence, I do not know myself. To be sacred dust Sparkling and dancing in Divine Love is my true self.
To Write About Peace
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
Rage, Prayer, Peace, Love
Rage fills me. Rage fills me with unease. Rage fills me. With unease, I try to pray. Rage fills me with unease. I try to pray for peace. Rage fills me. With unease, I try to pray. For peace, not rage, brings Love.
Two Ducks
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
i am me and more
It began, for me, with the reading Irina chose for our morning contemplative prayer group. Well, that is, the contemplative prayer group that happens for me in the morning, but as it is a Zoom group, it happens at many different times for the participants. Which is kind of wondrous in its own right, isn’t it? Our centering prayer group happens at the same time, and simultaneously at many different times, for the participants.
So what was this reading that so impacted me? Well, Irina told us it was from a book by Thomas Keating, and she told us the name of the book, and she promised to email the quote and reference to us – which is good because all other specifics are lost to me.
But this i do remember – the reading made me think that maybe if we did not capitalize the word “I”, maybe if it were always lower case, like me and you and us, like mine and yours and ours – maybe then we would find it easier to sometimes give up our preferences, our angers, our grievances and accept i as having no more – or less – importance than you. (And so i now have even more appreciation for the poetry of e.e. cummings.)
At that point i realized that i had just felt my own way around to the second great commandment, which is, we are told, like unto the first, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mark 12:31).
And it seems to me that once i give up that isolated, over-powering “I”, then it is so much easier to know myself to be so much more than an isolated “I.” Lower case i is marvelously part, with you, of an uppercase Unity.
Namaste
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