Tag Archives: choices

Decision, definition

In my heart
and soul
and mind,
I know.
I have been here before.

I have seen this place.
I have faced this moment.

T is for Trail (800x533)The place of decision.
The moment of definition.

In my heart
and soul
and mind,
I know.
I have been here before.

I have decided.
Frequently.

I have defined myself.
Often.

Decisions, definitions
that shape me.

In my heart
and soul
and mind,
I know.
I have been here before.

I have decided.
Poorly.

I have defined.
Badly.

And I bear the consequences.
Daily.

In my heart
and soul
and mind,
I know.
I have been here before.

And I wonder,
deeply wonder:
will I decide differently,
will I define creatively
at this time and in this place.

In my heart
and soul
and mind,
I know.
I have been here before.

8 September 2013
Shire Near the Hudson

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Filed under New York, Poem

A time to choose

Challenges andĀ opportunities mingle
as I ponder an invitation for
new behavior
new patterns
new living
into the new year.

Daunted, intimidated on the one hand,
intrigued, inspired on the other,
I weigh options,
andĀ consider possibilities,
knowing that each direction chosen
precludes other directions.

I wonder.
I wonder.
I wonder.

See you along the Trail.

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Souvenirs

My family instilled a love of travel in me. Childhood memories of road trips, camping and “the box” where we carried food to cut costs, fill me.

On the trips my brother and sister and I would often get souvenirs. Sometimes the decisions took place in an instant. Other times deep thought went into the decision. I watched my sons do the same. Few if any of my souvenirs remain, although the memories shine strong. Some of my sons’ souvenirs decorate our house, they may retain others, others disappeared long ago. In any case, I hope they have wonderful memories as well.

Whether discarded before the trip ended or preserved until the present day, choice stood as a common factor behind them. I selected each of my souvenirs as did my siblings and children in their turn.

Yesterday, I obtained a souvenir that someone chose for me. I traveled to Princeton Theological Seminary to meet with students who will do field education at the Presbyterian Ministry at the United Nations. We had great conversations and a picnic lunch. Then I headed to the train and the trip back to New York.

I sat, unknowing, in a quiet car. I either missed the sign or there it did not exist. I either missed the announcement or no announcement came.

I had started a phone conversation on the platform. I continued it in my seat. All went well until the conductor made his way down the aisle. He punched my ticket, tersely said, “Quiet car,” and handed me a card.

I quickly ended my call and sat in silence back to New York. I kept my new souvenir. We’ll see how long it lasts.

See you along the Trail.

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Filed under Family, New York, Presbyterian Ministry at the United Nations, Travel

His move

It’s your move.

The words startled him;
his head jerked up,
he shifted in his seat.
For the briefest of moments, their knees touched,
bare flesh warm on bare flesh.
He quickly moved his leg away
as though he had seared it on a stove’s lit burner.

It’s your move, came the repeated words.

Their eyes locked,
one soul peering deep into another.

What happens next is up to you.

The clear invitation echoed in his head
and pierced his heart.
His breathing quickened as he pondered the words,

envisioning what might be,
sensing opportunity,
imaging possibilities of joy,
considering consequences.

He broke the gaze and looked down,
staring intently,
absorbed a whirlpool of thought,
momentarily lost in eddies of emotion.
After an eternal ninety-seven seconds,
he leaned forward and, smiling broadly,
reached out his hand and took
queen’s knight to c3.

16 September 2011
Shire on the Hudson 

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Other choices

Forever he will wonder
how his life might have changed
had he chose to turned back that day and stay –
or if not to stay –
at least to say what was in his heart.

Now, years later,
each night he lies awake,
in the small hours of a morning,
delightful images dance in his mind as he
invents scenarios of what might have been.

Yet in some of those still, small hours,
before he reluctantly surrenders to sleep,
he grudgingly concedes
that greater joy no doubt lies in in his imagination
than would have been realized through other choices.

4-5 August 2011
SW 163 MDW – LGA
Shire on the Hudson

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Choices

Every choice
involves a cost.

Each word said
means others go unspoken.

Every yes,
brings many nos.

Every road taken,
leaves others unknown.

Every opportunity seized,
excludes so many possibilities.

Every gain,
brings much loss.

I will never know
what my choices
led me to miss.

I can never measure
if what I did is worth
what went undone.

But sometimes,
I am filled with wonder.

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Filed under Poem