Old Man

Today I saw an Old Man

Stooped over, swaying,

Negotiating balance as he

Moved down the sidewalk.

I have known this Old Man--

Since he was a Young Man,

Back when he captained great ships

And contolled destinies.

I see no glimpses of the past,

In whatever the stroke left behind;

What Greatness remains 

Is not readily identifiable.

This Old Man never meets my eye

And I wonder if he remembers me:

I walk beside him and invite 

The past to revisit us both.

But he doesn't remember me,

Doesn't see the admiration 

In my questioning eyes:

What happened to this Great Man?

"Thank you for all you've done,"

I said, in an effort to express my heart;

"I'm not done!" he said, telling me

About scholarships he's funded.

"Wonderful," I said.  "Awesome!"

I wipe a tear as he hobbles to his car,

Wondering if the man I'd remembered

Was indeed the man I saw before me:

Old Man.

Goodnight, Sweet Day

The sun has dipped behind the mountain,

Its journey no longer in my line of sight.

We are left with the cool darkening of color.

From the now blue-green tree tops

To the deepening hues of the green grass,

The world is cooling--sky to earth.

Twilight reminds us that all that's transpired

In the heat of the day is now a lingering memory;

Tomorrow, distant half-remembrances.

I know the sun doesn't really set,

That its journey never ends, at all,

But it is now out of my sight, mind.

As I write this, the Night approaches--

Though I still see slivers of light in cloud breaks--

Desperately clinging to what's left of Day.

I feel a sigh coming on, heavy eyelids,

Slowing my intake of air--breathe in, breathe out--

Goodnight, Sweet Day.

 

Little Slice of Heaven

Little slice of Heaven,

This patch of land

Where You've enabled

Us to live & laugh & love.

Little slice of Heaven,

This opportunity

To camp out here

And breathe in You.

Little slice of Heaven,

Here, where You have

Placed us, entrusted us,

To make a Difference.

Help us to always

Lead others to You;

You are the Life-giver,

The Sustainer of ALL.

On This Front Porch: Musings on Ireland

On this front porch, most days,

I can see all the way to Ireland.

I see tall mounts with green forests

Of trees planted by the Master's Hand.

On this front porch, most days,

I feel the fresh breezes on my face,

Close my eyes and breathe in

The History of the People.

On this front porch, most days,

I hear the Stories of Ages,

Transported by the salty air  

Over dark pebbly beaches.

On this front porch, I hear Him,

Telling me that I am Home Now,

That this patch of His Earth is

Precisely what He designed for me.

I no longer spend days and years 

Pining for the Irish Homeland.

When I step out on this front porch,

I am there again and all is well.

I Dreamt of You: A Poem for my Aunt Sue

I just woke up from a Dream of You,
And it was crazy beautiful:
Full of color bursts and music and
Snippets of scenes of your life--
My Memories of You.

It was Now--but mostly Then.

You, here, two decades or more ago,
Tying the belt of your warm winter jacket.
You, at Delft, years and years before,
Emerging from the room at the parsonage
Which was wholly yours, your universe.

You are radiantly smiling.

These Then and Now memories
Flood my unconscious mind,
Deep emotions wash over my being,
I remember it all in moments:
A fantastic slideshow of You.

You are beautiful, beautiful.

My face is wet with the tears
Caused by this powerful Memory...
And I just want you to know
That I have always adored you,
Loved you, looked up to you.

Always Then--and forever Now.