Velvet green grass revealed
under a foot of brown, hole-laced
leaves-
many rotten ones reveal
gold standard, black soil.
It’s seventy out,
in the middle of February.
Only this morning, when
the school bus came, the
teenagers at the bus stop
were blowing out plumes
of steam, hands deep in pockets and
head the retreated into hoods.
Years ago now, our infant held,
red curls and drool, the crying quelled.
Your long lashes brushed against your cheek,
five-o-clock shadow, widow’s peak.
A daddy who loves still, after twelve hours of work,
impatience controlled, under the surface to lurk.
Grew with her, and then more with our other,
tow-headed child, with hugs that smothered.
Said yes when you could, spanks when you had to,
teach background of movies, theatre and great food.
Barely registered passage of time,
the blur that it is, ’til you heard the clock chime.
Wish you would have had more time,
worked so hard, more life in your prime.
Girls are taller than me now, but not caught up to you,
Your expressions on their faces breaking through.
Generous, self-controlled, you’ve dealt with me,
held my hand when i couldn’t see.
Gave me what you could, would do without;
so I would be happy, you tried not to shout.
Let me cook, even though skill surpasses me there,
with all of us, you are tough but fair.
Hope you know that I love you,
because of who you are, not what you do.
Indubitably I am likely right
“Extremism in defense of liberty is no vice. Moderation in pursuit of justice is no virtue.”-Barry Goldwater
Kind of interesting, the issue of vice, virtue, and justice came up a few times yesterday, so I have been giving these things some thought. First of all, language is hard, so what is “extremism?” It’s thought to be, “any ideology (particularly in politics or religion), considered to be far outside the acceptable standards of the society….”
Well shoot, I live in a very secular area, very left leaning, and frequently find myself on the wrong side of “acceptable standards for society. ” One of my favorite mind-benders is the disgust a few people have expressed towards the “oppressiveness of heteronormalcy.” How can I even come within the bounds of acceptable society with standards like that?
So extremism it is. Extreme love, extreme faith, extreme forgiveness, extreme patience, these kinds of things…
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Some identities clung,
followed me like a long sheet
of toilet paper to my shoe-
extricated only with a vigorous shake
from the heel.
Others, titles evolved,
with me reluctantly picking the lint
of our separation off,
a descending tear or two
at their end.
During gaps between known identities
I scrambled, a frantic search-
panic drove to the first steady island,
nestled somewhere in the Pacific ocean;
purpose Grace’s kindness.
An everyday complaint in blogsville is filed somewhere against ‘Faith is believing in what you know ain’t true,’ a common short-sighted idea attributed to Mark Twain. This is usually cited to rail against the scriptures, God, and people of faith. An alleged ‘ace in the hole’ of an argument that supposes things not seen cannot be proven. Of course many hop on this short train trip as it heads off the cliff of reason and reality. Which reminds me.
A child of two is standing atop a wall, 6 feet off the ground. Her father standing below her says ‘Jump honey.’ Of course she is immediately fearful and shakes her head sideways. She doubts. She never jumped before; she has no evidence, she was never in this place on this wall; she never saw her father below her looking so small and far away. ‘C’mon, I’ll catch you.’ She hopes
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Daily word for 7 February 2017 – Psalm 15:1-4 Dear brothers and sisters, Today I want to encourage you with the words from Psalm 15:1-4 (NIV): A psalm of David. 1 LORD, who may dwell in your sacred tent? Who may live on your holy mountain? 2 The one whose walk is blameless, who does […]
via Daily word for 7 February 2017 – Psalm 15:1-4 — Alex on Faith
Perception,
imperfection-
when does the luminescent spark of
humanity and soul,
cease to be,
winked out
to a worthless shell
we can ridicule, condescend to,
puff up around?
The little seems a trial,
vigor tamped down-
kindness drew from an empty well.
Draw from your broken cistern,
lips that smile,
eyes that glare.
A simple follow,
petals of love and kindness
overflow, effortless.
Malformed motivations
a sort of fool’s gold,
On that day, through that fire,
My story is told.
Tears, heart sinking,
All my labor lost-
So why do I do it,
Did I count the cost?
disue 