Category Archives: Poem

Again

Once I read,
once I wrote.

Once I sang,
once I played.

Once …
… perhaps again.

5 June 2019
Manhattan, New York

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Filed under New York, Poem

After – Albuquerque 1996

1294519_10151934672121063_245716286_oAfter the prayers had been said
and the motions had been made;

after the rulings had been dispensed
and the speeches had been delivered;

after the instructions had been given
and the buttons had been pushed;

after the votes had been tallied
and the results announced;

after the passion
and the decent order;

after . . .
. . . the assembly sat in quiet contemplation,
pondering who had won
and who had lost,
considering what was gained
and what the cost.

My heart sundered the silence,
breaking, softly breaking,
for those, who by official action,
had been denied their full humanity,
and, whose gifts, but that same official action,
had been rejected.

A tear slid down my check,
coming to rest in tangled whiskers.
A single tear
shed for those beloved of God
who the vote would exclude
and for those
who out of fear
or prejudice
or lack of love
or for whatever reason
sought to shut doors –
and build walls –
and keep out –
and settle once and for all;
and in so doing
lost an opportunity
to join in
God’s amazing,
welcoming,
including,
affirming,
door-opening,
wall-smashing,
never-ending
love.

This was written after the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)’s 208th General Assembly (1996). That assembly met in Albuquerque, New Mexico and took action to recommend a change the church’s constitution that would ban LGBTQ individuals from serving in ordained offices. I attended that assembly as an observer. As the United Methodist Church meets to wrestle with similar questions, I remembered this piece and choose to share it. 

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Filed under Current Events, Family, Friends, Human Rights, Poem, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Eeyore Knights of Valor

Not alone, we stand together,
for alone one could not stand.

Not alone, we stand together,
soul to soul and hand in hand.

Not alone,  we stand together,
aching hearts, but spirits strong.

Watching, waiting, working,
when others turn away;

seeing, hearing, feeling,
what others would avoid.

Not alone, we stand together,
wounded,
surely wounded,
sorely wounded,
wounded all, yet still we stand.

Not alone, we stand together,
laughing, weeping,
bound by hope
and filled with love.

Not alone we stand together,
for alone we could not stand.

26 July 2001
Colorado National Monument, Fruita, CO and Orem, UT
revised 15 February 2019
Manhattan, New York 

with thanks to Diana Cheifetz

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Filed under Friends, National Park, New York, Poem

6 Dec #Light #AdventWord 2018

6 Dec #LightThe Advent devotional project, #AdventWord  is offered by the Society of St John the Evangelist. Each day a word is provided and participants are invited to share images and/or reflections and to use hashtags so our reflections may be included in an Advent Calendar with others from around the world.

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Laundry night in NYC

Frodo walked into Mordor,
even though one does not simply do that,
to destroy a ring of power.

Dorothy followed the Yellow Brick Road
to find the wizard who could return her to Kansas.

A shepherd, left 99 sheep behind
to search for one that was lost.

With the knights of the table round,
Galahad sought the Holy Grail.

I’m looking for a lost sock.

13 October 2018
Manhattan, New York

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You are beloved

If remembered, relived violation
battered and bruised you this day;

if unexamined privilege
and barely restrained belligerence
pierced your heart,
assailed your soul,
distressed your mind,
sapped your strength;
know,
as day ends,
know:
you are not alone
you are stronger than you imagine,
you are believed,
you are beloved.
27 September 2018
Manhattan, New York

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Filed under Current Events, Family, Friends, New York, Poem

A night at Yankee Stadium

I close my eyes, squeeze them tight,
for a moment the neon assault
that is Yankee Stadium fades away
and I find myself sitting again
in a wooden seat, peanut shells beneath my feet,
within the steel and concrete of Forbes Field
where hands change the numbers on the scoreboard
while Clemente lashes a double into the gap
and the odor of his pipe tobacco
rises from my father’s clothes.

27 May 2018
Manhattan, New York 

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Filed under Baseball, Family, Pittsburgh Pirates, Poem