sunday | october 31 | 2010

the odyssey.

words fail when it comes time

to say goodbye; a litany of concerns

remain hidden by the obscurity

of worry, and once again, i find myself

tragically speechless, hoping i've packed

enough for this journey. beyond

the threshold lies adventure and

uncertainty. the heroes of old found

themselves typically far from home,

braving scyllas and charybdises (charybdi?),

hurricanes and shipwrecks, fallen friends

and fiercest foes.

who am i who travels

forth into a world without

the promise of mythic hope and

epic redemption? what home

have i to purge of seedy suitors

who sup sumptuous savories?

who shall be my athena, and what

if i am not strong enough to string

the bow that has been given me?

all such pondering gives me pause,

begs me submit to the sirenesque

television who promises that adventure

shall be brought to me at 8/9 central.

but this is not the call; nor

is it the heart of the hero.

from forth i must go with

steady hands and quickened wit,

trusting that the path before

me is truly my own,

and that no one else shall

walk it better than i. whatever

calypso may offer, i shall refuse,

keeping my eyes on that

celestial ithaca where my Beloved's

song echoes through halls, and

gives this poor pilgrim the

rest he has so long needed.

saturday | october 30 | 2010

new resolve.

so let us go, hand in hand,

as one (not two) into the

setting sun so that find

ourselves not to be alone

when dusk turns to dark.

we shall have each other

and through long night

we shall endure in hope

and faith that the morning

light will bring new song.

what manner of thing shall

be too strong if we band

arms and fight together

against fierce foes?

with you by my side,

i will fear not, as i find

new resolve to survive.

friday | october 29 | 2010

pedal to the meddle.

we all long

to be told

that our beloved

will stick beside

us always. we

find such hope

to be fulfilling -

"the stuff dreams

are made of."

but does any

credibility exist in

someone who pledges

all of time

while driving away?

is my incredulity

an angry act

or remorseful response?

or is it

simply that i

am too afraid

to be the

one whose heart

speaks quickly while

a lead foot

finds his mouth?

thursday | october 28 | 2010

this is the song that never ends.

musicians are a strange brand

of mystics whose orchestration

permits access to that song which

has been sung by all humanity

since time (signature) began.

the limited catalogue of chords

and my underdeveloped ability

to carry a tune in a bucket make

this quality of musicality to be

of particular interest to me.

what is the space created between

musical instruments but that which

is filled by the spirit of God? in the

song we play, what part do we find

ourselves? are we continually singing

the chorus, or is it finally the bridge?

is this verse spoken by lover enthralled,

or is it a cry to the Beloved?

what is this song about, in the end,

and what is the coda we hope for?

wednesday | october 27 | 2010

three begs such complex oneness.

how can the same

substance appear

so differently?

perhaps this

is the question

asked by those

fathers of the

church whose

prayer pointed

homoousios.

one substance

existing in

three distinct

hypostases

baffles the mind,

bends back

the wit, inverting

all understanding

of man made math.

unique yet

inseparable these

three, existing

in, with, for,

and beside

one another

for all eternity.

such mystery

leads as we,

with isaiah,

cry out;

woe to me!

i am undone!

too lofty are

such thoughts

for created

intelligence.

meta-logic

beyond compare

gives pause and

begets prayer.

tuesday | october 26 | 2010

i haven't seen this movie.

i have never seen

the sound of music;

i suppose this statement

seems obvious if one

is not familiar with

julie andrews

or the legacy

she has created.

it's

immeasurable, really.

but

still, the fact

remains that

i have yet

to partake in

a few of my

favorite people's

favorite things.

monday | october 25 | 2010

missed exits.

"i think i need to be up there," he said, indicating the freeway above him. "damn it!"

"watch your mouth." she liked saying this to him. "just take the next exit, turn around, and get there. what's another two miles to this godforsaken trip?"

he flipped on the right blinker and began drifting into the next lane. "that's what i mean! aren't you tired, too?"

she looked at the kids in the backseat, making sure that they were still asleep. "incredibly. all i'm saying is that it has already been a long day, and i shouldn't have to worry about quieting another baby that won't stop screaming. we get there when we get there." she adjusted her seatbelt. "besides. it's nice to get a little more time with you."

he took the exit and slowed the car down to wait for a protected left turn. "yeah. it's been a while, i guess." he watched the cross-traffic. "sorry."

"it's okay. i mean. i know you're busy at work and all that." she shifted in her seat to face him.

"yeah, but –"

"but nothing," she interrupted. "you work hard. sure, we don't see each other much, but when we do, it's nice." she turned down freddy mercury singing, 'i got no rhythm.' "i appreciate all you do for us."

green light. "you do?"

"yeah," she said. "i do. i guess i don't say that enough."

"it's okay. i know you do a lot with the kids, and you're tired at the end of the day."

"yeah. but not too tired." she smiled, and they laughed together. "it's nice to do that again."

"it certainly is." he drove up the onramp, now headed the opposite direction. "i've missed you," he confessed.

"i've missed you back." she put her head on his shoulder.

then silence.

"you know," he spoke, "it's hard to drive with your head there."

she lifted her head.

"i didn't say stop," he grinned.

she put her head back down, and they were back on the road, right where they needed to be.