The earth again like a ship steams out of the dark sea over
The edge of the blue, and the sun stands up to see us glide
Slowly into another day; slowly the rover
Vessel of darkness takes the rising tide….
D.H. Lawrence / Blue
When you watch the sunrise alone
The sun not touching the sky
When you see a star
But not one that belongs
When you breathe
And the air escapes you
That is when you know
Love in the green and blue
Love when the red speaks
To the black
But should you touch the center
Where none are known
Then you will
I saw the sky come down on the dawn
I saw the sun set upon itself
I watched as night attracted them all
But then the sun rose
On a beach while I was alone
And there was your hand
Reaching for mine
We should escape to that place
That place of silence
That place where I watched
The sunrise alone
It is there that the silence
Wraps us in the caerulean sky
And the only star
Brightens the life of so many souls
Here we meet
Set me free to wander the night
The places where hate roams
But has no power
The place where pain screams
But has no feeling
The place where I have no voice
But the voice that is you
Drops of rain on the path
I watch the sunrise alone
And the star fell
there are rules
how we hate them
there are rules
but they must be followed
there are rules
but this is the night
they are broken
because the pink engaged the blue
the blue was overwhelmed
and the sky became an end
There are the days
when the moon shines
and the whiskey flows
but then there are days
when the atrocity of it all
melts in the pink of your flesh
cries for another day
and screams at the night of your death
to return to the day before
I’ll make the scars
that traverse my skin
waiting for the days
that you are buried in us
I saw the moon set
and the sun rise
there was no sleep
the pink engaged the blue
and the blue
and the blue
the sun or the moon
my eyes are seeking you
the sun the moon
the skies are above you
the sun the moon
in the end we are together
a place of light
and a place where the skies
skip to their own tune
a place of darkness
that brings hands
grasping for one another
snow on the mountain
end of things
but not the end
only a new beginning
in the full light
of the sun or the moon
Where have I been for the last month….
The sun rose and the sun set.
The inn was full and Christ was born.
The moon rose and the moon died.
The shepherds visited and the Innocent perished.
The Magi made a clandestine visit and we listened for the drummer.
Then you realized your rainbow was full of demons….
I’ve been doing the “dry” January, which has turned out to be a semi-arid environment with the occasional shower. It has been good and I have dropped more than a few pounds. It is good.
I’ve been reading more than usual, but when you have a 1,200 page book, it takes more than a few days to get through it. Yes… The Stand. There truly is not a more remarkable book outside of the Good Book. And whether he admits it or not, S. King knows more about God, the devil, Holy Scripture, and everything else in between than most of us folks who run around in fancy robes (or skinny jeans) on Sunday mornings. You can’t paint the picture unless you’ve seen the original…. no what I mean? Yes. Yes you do.
The Priest work is going well. It is good to hide behind my robes, but I’m guessing most can see the hypocrite in the shadows. It is the reason for the failure. My friend Brennan ( what a great name) says that Jesus comes along side each of us and says, I know your whole life story. I know every skeleton in your closet. I know every moment of sin, shame, dishonesty and degraded love that has darkened your past. Right now I know your shallow faith, your feeble prayer life, your inconsistent discipleship.
Funny I can never remember the rest of it.
I should just go to sleep now and wake up…. later.
Life is good. Yes it is.
Ah… The Queen. Her Majesty is a Royal…. um… yes… Hinney! LOL. She has her moments, but it is a delight to come home from the day and find her waiting for the scrub under the chin. She is Rain, but she lives into her “title”.
There are many thoughts and so many things to say, but they seem to wander off on their own and find other places to germinate….
Do you ever just not want to go to bed because it is the first time in many days that you have the opportunity to think, write, paint, dance, listen, etc.? There are days that this is the way we roll around here. I’ll stay up too late and listen to tunes, paint goofy pictures, think of writing, pray (yes, I do that), wonder who I would be if I let go of control, and then sleep…
…. No more—and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep—
To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub!
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause—there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of disprized love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death
The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
… but still………… let’s stay awake for another hour or so.
Picture it: approximately 4:00 a.m. Sleeping peacefully in a queen size bed… all by your lonesome. Things are going well. Not too hot… not too cold. You’ve had the bed to yourself for several years, so you’re accustomed to roaming from one side to the other. This side is too hot… roll over to the to her… Ahhh…. nice and cool. Then tragedy strikes: at some point in the night, you’ve forgotten that you’ve rolled over to the other side and then there is the cat. The cat is hot. So, throughout the night you subconsciously move away from that precious little ball of fur (a.k.a. Her Royal Highness, the Queen of All that has Ever Been Created) and unbeknownst to you–Yes, Charlie, you’re on the very precipice of a 30 inch drop. What do you do? You roll over and…. “Shi……!” The first “whack” is to the head, right on the eyebrow and the second is to the shoulder. I do not recall the last time I fell off the bed (IF EVER!), but a few nights ago, I did just that. Even The Queen was embarrassed, although I did catch her laughing hysterically a few moments afterwards…. little bitc….. and now, here we are. I hope to go another fifty-six years without doing it again. By then, my bones will be so brittle that my skull will pop like a melon and I won’t have to endure a ridiculing cat!
The sabbatical, the great adventure on the Camino de Santiago… yeah. Probably not going to happen next year. Sigh. Still planning the trip to Rome and maybe even to Lisbon… definitely Rome. That one is already booked.
There has also been another project that I’ve been working on since December 20th last year with my friend (yes, I have one), The Rev. Sean Ekberg. Code word: COKO and I hope to be sharing with you soon as we’ve just about completed round one. We feel confident that this will be something for the entire Episcopal Church and pray that it will bring a bit of hope to us all… trust me: it’s good. It is very good! You’ll know it when it arrives and probably ask me to please stop promoting it. Enough! However, with that on its way, Fr. Anthony will have a bit more time to solve another murder. The Marble Finger must have its story told!
And I’ve picked up a new hobby… watercolors. This one is a challenge, but I find that I can do a bit of painting between other projects. Let’s the creative side have a walkabout without… I don’t know. It seems to go faster than writing, but I do need to be a bit more patient. Before putting a second color on top of another, there must be time for drying. Also, I’ve got to give the paints more time to do their thing as opposed to dabbing at it and spreading them. Leave them alone. They’ll spread on their on at their own time and make a much better picture. This is attempt #4 after watching a video. I actually kind of like it, but see the areas for improvement. I’ll keep practicing. Doesn’t really matter if you’re any good at this sort of thing. It really is about just enjoying the process and seeing what happens. Oh, and The Queen (she’s showing quite a bit in this post), she likes to drink the water that I wash the brush in. Weirdo. (Don’t tell her I said that.)
Thinking about going to NYC for a few days. Will take photos.
What I’ve learned: At some point, you have to start living. You can wait a lifetime to begin, but then that life will be over and you will be standing by the side of the desert road with your thumb stuck out while waiting for the ride that will never come. Start walking. Start walking and they’ll eventually find you and if your journey should take you into the desert where the cactus grow and the scorpions hunt… then watch your step and all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.
Thought for the day: Modo liceat vivere, est spes. While there’s life, there’s hope. — Terentius. Preaching on this Sunday. It is the one thing that didn’t escape out of the box, but it is what Jesus brings.