RETREAT IN CLEVELAND

I'm just back from a men's retreat in the Cleveland, Ohio are this past weekend. Years ago a wrote a couple of poems after a retreat and I always enjoy reading and re-reading upon my return even years later, so here they are:

RETREAT

I went out to the woods
because their was a fire
in my heart that needed tending.
I know that words alone
cannot contain or change
the shape of this sacred flame.
And so I give myself the gift
of time to listen to the sound
of my heartbeat.
On holy land I cast off false illusions
and shed plates of armor
revealing a tender place
where love and I can live
and grow and thrive and welcome
each other home.



PERFECTION


Fourteen billion
year old molecules
crashing, caroming
randomly becoming
fire, water, earth and air
heading toward
this one,
perfect morning
where truth reveals itself,
for just a moment,
to those with ancient eyes.

ENCOUNTER - EYES

I went to Jesus’ house yesterday. No, not the one you’re thinking of. He gave me his address over my cell phone. I knew how to get there. I had to drive through some dicey neighborhoods, but I didn’t mind. Parking was at a premium, but I managed to find a spot. I spied the house – a little rundown. I saw the Palestinian flag in the window and a sign that said, “Stop the Killing.” Yep, this must be the place. He told me to just come on up when I got there – 2nd floor, take 3 flights of stairs – huh? Well, there wasn’t a doorbell and the door was locked, so I called him on my cell phone. “Come ‘round back, watch your step, 2nd floor, take 3 flights of stairs.” Again, huh? He said he’d be in the shower, so just come right in and make myself comfortable. Sure, enough, 2nd floor, 3 flights of stairs. I reached for the doorknob and it turned easily. I stepped in. I shrugged off my coat, placed it on a woven wicker trunk and since there weren’t any chairs, I sat on the edge of his bed. Before long, I heard the shower being turned off. The bathroom door opened and out he walked – buck naked. He wasn’t embarrassed and neither was I. He came over and opened his arms wide to share a hug. Seemed like the most natural thing in the word to do so I wrapped my arms around him. And then he looked into my eyes.

(to be continued...)

MARY'S LAMENT

When the women first heard
the news, they turned away,
unwilling to hear the truth,
fearing my dear Joseph
would run. But then,
when he stayed
and my belly swelled,
they fought one another
for a chance to touch me.
As my hopes grew stronger,
I eagerly dreamed of birthing
this Child. Soon, as always,
the women grew bored
as I became just another

young girl with child. If only
they'd looked in my eyes.

poem inspired by artwork created by

(and used with permission of) Christine Valters Paintner

(www.abbeyofthearts.com)