February 25, 2019 · 9:07 pm
After 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 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
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.
Filed under Current Events, Family, Friends, Human Rights, Poem, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)
Tagged as 208th General Assembly (1996), Albuquerque, exclusion, fear, grace, hope, LGBTQ community, love, pain, prejudice, sorrow, tears
February 23, 2017 · 7:34 pm
These “flowers” were in the garden decorating the restaurant where Takako took me to lunch in Albuquerque.
13 February 2017
February 20, 2017 · 9:13 pm
If you follow this blog, or simply wander through a few of the posts, you will notice a fondness, a deep affection, for Northern New Mexico. It is one of several locations where I experience a profound affinity for the place.
When I was scheduled
for a meeting in Albuquerque, I made an airline ticket that would allow me to arrive about six hours before the meeting. The timing did not permit more free time.
As the day for the meeting approached, I began to see the flaw in my plan. I had no way to travel from the airport.
My friend Takako Terino came to my rescue with an invitation to hang out until I needed to go to the hotel. We went to lunch and had a long conversation. Then we decided to take the tram up to Sandia Peak.
The mountains were wrapped in cloud. While in made for poor viewing of Albuquerque, it was an incredible experience. Disappearing into the clouds and then the mountain emerging suddenly.
A winter wonderland awaited at the top. Snow made intricate patterns on the trees as the cloud swaddled us.
On the return trip, the person driving the tram looked at me and said, “Your hat is on backward. And there is a tag showing.” See the photo.
Before I could reply, the person removed my hat, put it back on “correctly” and tucked in the tag.
As the person did, I thought, “Seriously? I look like someone who cares about how my hat looks?” But I said nothing.
When Takako and I left the tram, I readjusted my hat and let my free tag fly.
See you along the Trail.
September 20, 2012 · 10:09 pm
The Easter egg tree
(are they leftover or are they rushing the season)
of the First Presbyterian Church of Annapolis,provides a reminder,
of the hot air balloons of
they in turn,
Gladys and J.C.
and wondrous memories
and love that never dies
but accompanies us
See you along the Trail
September 17, 2012 · 4:56 pm
Tucked into a bend of the river
the Rio Grande Nature Center is
one of my favorite places in Albuquerque.
I try to visit each time I am in town.
Tucked into the side of the trail,
one late October day,
amid some dying weeds and some decaying trees,
delicate purple flowers appear.
I don’t know how or when I discovered this special spot,
but I suspect that my special friends Gladys and J.C.
had something to do with it.
23 October 2009
Rio Grand Nature Center State Park
August 14, 2012 · 11:24 am
Behind gray green mountains
burns a brilliant golden pool;
light sabers stab the sky
then fade to wisps of brown
as day ends.
West of Albuquerque
June 6, 2011 · 2:50 am
Somewhere west of Albuquerque,
one star hangs defiantly
above the far horizon;
the sky turns
forty shades of blue.
A coyote mournfully howls
as I surrender to night’s embrace
and gentle dreams of you.
West of Albuquerque
Filed under Poem
Tagged as Albuquerque, road
August 22, 2010 · 2:32 pm
As the sun climbs
the eastern side of the Sandias
illuminating the morning stillness,
cameras in hand,
they descend steel rungs
into a concrete arroyo
the arroyo bottom
left upturned, abandoned;
birds stop upon a telephone wire
and ponder dreams.
22 August 2010
August 22, 2010 · 2:29 pm
Into the crack
between pavement slabs
tender, tenacious, green tendrils
patiently, persistently push
emerging to burst
into glorious purple and gold.
22 August 2010
Filed under Poem, Travel
Tagged as Albuquerque
January 25, 2010 · 4:15 am
The final day of this New Mexico trip saw me hanging out in Albuquerque. I overate again. That stops tomorrow. But I could not pass on the food here.
I got a hotel that has a fitness center. So I did 2.25 miles on the treadmill. I also went to the Coronado State Monument – not sure what I make of that name. It apparently is near the place where Coronado and his party of invaders wintered in 1540-42.
An ancient pueblo there – Kuaua is there. The pueblo was settled about 1300 CE and abandoned toward the end of the 1500s CE. It sits right along the Rio Grande. Despite the cold weather (which the wind that picked up during the early morning did not help), I did the trail along the river and the trail around the pueblo. Then I went to the Pueblo Cultural Center. Interestingly enough, it has an exhibit on the saints of the pueblos.
All that walking led to a step count of 12,807 – the highest so far!
Tomorrow – the return to the Shire.
See you along the Trail.