28 March 2018
Morningside Gardens
Manhattan, New York
After cold and after snow, they persist, they abide.
25 March 2018
First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone
Whitestone, New York
The congregation celebrated the beginning of my ministry today with a meal
after the worship service. The flowers on the table were purple.
Photo by Sera Chung
Filed under First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone, Friends, Lent, Photo
24 March 2018
Morningside Gardens
Manhattan, New York
Regular readers will note that these are the same crocuses photographed 8 days ago. They have endured at least one Nor’easter. They endure. They persist.
Gym at the Shire. Treadmill. Arm work. Core work. Stretching.
How Can I Keep from Singing – Celtic Woman
Coming Home – Eileen Ivers
Long Journey Home – Elvis Costello with Anuna
Song for Ireland – Mary Black
Thousands Are Sailing – The Pogues
Weep Not for the Memories – Seamus Egan
On Raglan Road – Sinead O’Connor
The People Have Spoken – Tommy Sands
Peace Has Broken Out – Eric Bogle
Daughters & Sons – The Sands Family
Against the Wind – Maire Brennan
Peace on Earth – U2
Give Me Your Hand – The Wolfe Tones
Erin Go Bragh – The Wakes
San Patricio Brigade – Black 47
Soldier’s Song – The Clancy Brothers & Tommy Makem
My Heart’s Tonight in Ireland – Andy Irvine
After a week away and a few days off due to laziness, I returned to the gym today.
I spent thirty minutes on the treadmill and did some core work.
Then I did an arms and legs workout with NK Body Philosophy. At some point during the evening ahead, I will stretch to March Madness.
Hopefully this marks the beginning of a routine.
Now if I could just do something to restrain my eating …
16 March 2018
Morningside Gardens
Manhattan, New York
The first purple flowers of the year.
They look cold.
The workout schedule has been spotty. But today brought stretching and core work with NK Body Philosophy late this afternoon.
Additional stretching followed this evening. The effort continues.
No single poem,
says all that needs to be said,
expresses all people feel and know,
encapsulates everyone’s experiences,
yet still we write,
we scribble and type,
smashing letters together and
trusting our inadequate words
will,
in ways we do not understand
nor ever could predict
will
touch,
move,
inspire,
and somehow lead to other words,
shaped in other poems
that describe other realities.
8 March 2018
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Filed under Poem
To the grave from the cradle
we crawl,
we walk,
run, roll, dance,
strut, stagger, and shuffle
until we can move no more
and we are welcomed home
and love remains.
8 March 2018
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Along the Graybeard Trail 