Poem: Be Still With Me.

Be Still with Me.

Be still with me.
Feel my heartbeat,
know it, travel my journey

of a thousand cuts,
a thousand healings,
miracles of pain

That leave the most beautiful
scars.

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The picture was taken yesterday, 9-11, in Argyle, NY. We passed the firehouse on the way to church in the morning and these two men were standing stock-still at full attention. Hours later, when we drove home again, they were still there, perfectly in place, in honor of the lost of 9-11. Their stillness and honor was so much more touching, more real, more painful, than anything brought about by new, TV or the media. You can click on it for a larger version.

This brief poem is for all who carry with them deep hurts, that simply want them recognized and honored, however, or if, they have healed so far in their journey.

Tom

Poem: Of Love and Lamps

Of Love and Lamps

Your heart is rusted,
it's once proud beauty
laid low by age and wear,
by long seasons of winter after winter,

slowly stripping the gilt and color,
slowly rotting the wires that connected it
to the source of all power,
to love or the possibility of love,

far more than a mere restoration,
this is a lifetime project, beginning
with the faith that despite all appearances,
rust is rarely fatal, but merely

a form of paralysis, waiting
for someone with foresight
and patience to begin
the long path back.

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The picture is of a small chandelier I am restoring. A two dollar buy at an auction, where no one else wanted it, I've begun the work of redoing it. At this point, it looks like this:


As always, you can click on a picture for a larger view.

Tom

Poem: The Truth of Healing

The Truth of Healing

It is easy to think you cannot heal,
to make light of spring after the bitter winter,
or fresh green life after a forest fire.

Easy to believe the there is no return
from the loss of death or heartbreak,
no coming back from pain, but

that is only if we believe healing
is simply the return to what was,
to some imaginary perfection that can never be,
and likely, never was.

It that is how we define healing,
then no, it will never come.
But

if we understand the truth of healing,
that it is not a return, but a transformation
to something new, and different,

vital and alive, scarred even,
yet more precious for it's survival,
then we know,

healing can come,
will come,
has come.

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The picture was taken today, while my son and I were hiking on the Appalachian Trail. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom