Oracle
Seeking Truth,
Within the flame.
Balanced,
Leaning forward,
Continuing onward
Reaching home,
before the storm.
Ever present,
Silent harmonies.
Visions of the future.
Purity under guard.
Finding ourselves in steady orbit,
around a glowing sun.
Truth caught between my face,
and its reflection.
Reality as dialogue
between myself and God.
Knowing the monks are bowed
in perpetual prayer.
Imagining angels
close at hand.
Promises of wonder
at every moment.
Threads of light are spun and woven
into a golden star.
Adirondack Hills in Summer
Up in these ancient mountains,
In the damp forest,
Tall trees lunge skyward.
Mosaic of green leaves above,
with ferns bowed below.
Energy as flashes
In the deep woods.
Stars falling as tiny fireballs.
I am invigorated.
My body is strengthened.
From inside the well lit cabin,
I hear the cheery voices
of my family.
I contemplate the bears
Seen roving the nearby woods.
And the deer seen browsing
by the gravel road,
as bats flutter by in the dark.
We become kind neighbors here,
loving people.
I am changed by these great hills.
Awed by God’s nature,
And the power of the wilderness.
My spirit wants to pray,
Give thanks and praise.
I have been touched by nature.
I have been with God.
To Mom and Dad
I have this feeling within,
great things are underway.
And we are at a new beginning.
I began within you,
And learned and grew by you,
As a seedling under two tall trees.
Thirsty for independence and adventure,
I tore myself violently from you.
And there was completely crushed.
But the pieces of my shattered soul
Were gathered together.
Time waved it’s magic hand
over my being,
and somehow I became whole.
I have found myself,
And that great barrier of tragedy
Has become a sturdy stepping stone.
I saw the seas parted.
As ten thousands of ten thousands,
Through which we crossed together.
There is no longer a simple “I”.
It is “We”.
As I live within you,
And you within me.
And this is a miracle.
These bright days before us
belong to us all.
A Loved One Grows Old
Growing old and dying,
as I see all men do,
it leaves me sad and crying
teary eyed and blue.
To see a loved one weaken,
and loose the will to live,
to lie there without speaking,
and there’s nothing I can give.
Escape into my bedroom,
close and lock the door.
Battle with the shades of doom,
my knees down on the floor.
I ask the greater power
why it has to be this way.
Why life must face an hour,
a dark and fearful day.
Darkness follows daylight.
A hope and then a fear.
First a morning, then a night.
A smile then a tear.
I know this is the plan of life,
the course of destiny.
There is no beauty without strife,
The chains of liberty.
Why is pain part of the plan,
A tear for every eye,
joy and pain both made for man,
and every man must die?
Helplessly I am standing by,
to fear and pray and morn.
To hear a loved one’s final sigh,
my heart is bruised and torn.
Driven ever nearer
life’s hidden mystery.
Though now darkly in a mirror,
one day we’ll clearly see.
I cannot now see nor know,
But to give and pray and love.
Chariot of Heaven swing thou low,
and take this soul above.
Again my heart is broken,
To see a loved one die.
May brighter truths be spoken,
at a new home in the sky
The final word here,
in a world that’s bathed in pain,
good and evil always near,
both sunshine and rain.
Here now, oh thou present day!
Darkness I bid flee!
Good Lord in Heaven above I pray,
Upon us have mercy.
God of Life I cannot see,
The mind of man can’t know.
Let light break over me.
To light, please let us go.
Let light breaketh over me.
To light please let us go!
Rockin’ and a Rollin”
Rockin and a rollin’,
and ready to go.
Come on bro,
let’s lay it low.
Getting restless
sitting here.
Turn the key,
put it in gear.
Getting impatient
standing around.
Start walking the minute
you hit the ground.
Getting itchy
without a plan.
Let’s do something.
I mean it man.
Getting antsy,
and getting the itch.
I’ll take a swing
if you throw a pitch.
There’s a world of life
and action out there.
I’m going to adventure
and take that old dare.
Go hunting for bear,
way back in the hills.
Take to the mountains,
and have a few thrills.
And look a little harder
for the right misses.
steal a few hugs
and a whole lot of kisses.
I just can’t handle
this wasting time.
Standing around
is a terrible crime.
Ready and a rockin’
and a rollin’ and a reeling.
come on let’s do
a little wheeling and dealing.
A rockin’ and a rollin,
and a ready to go.
Let’s get started.
No time to blow.
Ready and a rollin’
and a reelin’ and a rockin’.
Someone’s at the door.
That’s life a knocking.
My dear friend
that’s life a wasting.
Let’s get a seeing,
and a hearing, and a tasting.
A rockin’ and a rollin’,
and a ready to go.
Let’s get going,
it’s time, I know!
Celebrate
This part of the project was written somewhere around 1995. As I type out poem after poem, I see myself swinging from elation to sorrow. In one moment life’s sacrifice seems futile. But soon after, the mountaintop of immortal success seems but days away. I have to remind myself that I did not choose this path to become wealthy and famous. But to live a life pleasing to God, and accept wherever that would lead.
On this road called life they say,
change, the stone that paves the way.
Shoulders warmed by coats of wool.
Joyous hope strength of the soul.
Finding rest by fires warm,
friendship, shelter from the storm.
Something glowing bright and gold,
love within this heart I hold.
Riding free upon the skies,
Singing songs of higher highs
Veil of mystery to shed,
And mystery anew to wed.
Labor , celebrate and pray.
To see the truth, and see the way.
Easy yoke, and burden light,
Hold the mountain’s peak insight.
Sadness, sickness, sorrow die,
Dry the weary, teary eye.
No more to let the sorrow in,
Rather light and life to win.
Oh man of steel, man of tin,
Fly sky high, with praises win.
I say no longer drink in sorrow,
Lighter, brighter days tomorrow.
Walk the breezes, breathe the wind.
Joy of life, be found within.
Throw the drear, sadness away,
Rather dance, sing and play.
Climb the flowering hillside bold,
Steeple bells have rung, have tolled.
Through the blossoming meadows bound.
With God’s own love and beauty crowned.
Embracing now, I steal a kiss.
Within her arms a moment’s bliss.
Breathe the scent of life’s sweet flowers.
A few short days, a few short hours.
Adventure, sail the world around.
See the sights, and hear the sounds.
Now’s the time, I say set sail,
Golden chalice, Holy Grail.
Leave behind the sterile towers,
Drink sweet nectar before it sours.
Sing the songs, rhyme the rhyme.
Feel life’s rhythm, pure, sublime.
Listen to my prayer my plea,
I strike my chest, and shout “be free”.
Walk no more on roads of pain.
Strength of light, and washed of rain.
On this road of life I say,
“be free, and filled with joy today”.
Believe no more darkness lie,
That man was made to mourn and cry.
I give you now new hope to hold,
To walk on roads of gems and gold.
Listen to my prayer, my plea,
Be filled with joy, be whole, be free.
Listen to my prayer, my plea.
Be filled with joy, be whole, be free.
At the Monastery
The monks of Mount Savior have been my mentors since childhood. The life I have now is modeled after the monastic lifestyle. This house is more a hermitage with guest rooms than it is an isolated cabin in the woods. Prayer and the Sacrament are observed here. Much time is invested in the preparation of meals. And the arts are practiced and honored here. Most of the monks have no idea what the brotherhood means to me. Most of my mentors, Father Martin, Father James, and Brother Stephen, all great men, have passed on.
This is a farming community. I live in a community of cottages with a brushy wood in back. When the summer folks go home, it is somewhat isolated.
I have vegetable gardens and chickens in back. Hunting and fishing are a big part of meal preparations. I would like more land. I don’t get down to the monastery much anymore. I have responsibilities that hold me close to this home. Gardens, chickens, and church obligations.
I was professed an oblate in 1994. It was the most important ceremony of my life.
Anyways these next poems were written while I was on retreat at Mount Savior.
Inside the guest house,
I shiver as the cold wind
Hits the windows.
I light the stove,
And put the coffee water on.
Its Sunday afternoon,
I decide to take a nap.
As I fall asleep,
The heat kicks on.
I dream I am with a friend,
looking out over the hills.
We are watching God’s Kingdom dawn.
Here I feel chosen.
Gray clouds,
Water colors in the sky.
Grazing sheep.
Thick coats ready for winter’s cold.
Golden rod, brown thistle, milk weed.
Sail planes overhead.
A prayer my life will heal.
It’s Sunday.
A special table, with wine.
I have to call home.
Conversations.
Something broke free inside.
And pain is washed away.
A hawk in flight.
Blue jays.
Geese fly over, honking.
I fasten my coat.
Birch leaves shivering,
Whispering in the wind.
Fall leaves in full color, now.
The barn cats leave mouse feet
on the stone walkways.
Inconsumable diner leftovers.
Inner brokenness,
Again I am touched.
Broken within,
Yet healed.
Written on My Last Night at the Monastery
Puffy billows of incense smoke
rising into the timbers and beams.
Shining sun, through the morning mist.
The first frost is late.
Grasshoppers devour fallen apples.
A late ladybug hatch.
one legged crickets have destroyed themselves with song.
(I face my passion to play the piano)
I catch a brother’s eye,
through the strings on the harp.
Playing with mysterious beauty.
Wine at supper, beer at the evening meal.
On day four, peace happened.
My lungs cleared out.
I hear my inner voice say, “from pathos to ethos”.
(Though I don’t know what that means).
And, “man of strength, man of gentleness, be though immortal”.
Here I have bared my soul.
I confide in you my Brothers,
It is with genuine sadness I leave.
Perhaps one day I shall stay.
Oblates Creed
Written tongue in cheek. It pretty much sums it all up.
To be quick to grab a broom.
To send pennies to the prior.
To make big prayers at little occasions.
And to buy coffee cakes for the guest house kitchen.
Yes, this is the whole duty of the Oblate.
Twilight’s Last Holdout
Headed westward now,
into the day’s last light.
A window between the clouds,
as daytime yields to night.
A glimmer of light, though darkened clouds
shroud the setting sun.
Hugging the road, on a rugged rise,
Another day is done.
Evening now is over,
another day is gone.
The sun has said “good bye now”,
until tomorrow’s dawn.
Twilight’s last holdout,
in the darkening western sky.
A glimmer of hope ‘tween fading clouds.
Another night is nigh.
The light of day now fading.
Brightness’ hour fading fast.
Hour of darkness power,
now daylight’s fully passed.
The search for truth may lead a man,
from home fires burning warm.
Through dark and dangerous valleys,
the threatening rage of storm.
Hold a steady course now.
Hold bravely to your guns.
Keep on in strength and courage,
For the morning’s rising sun.
May your home be light’s last holdout,
and this light be warm within.
Home before the full gale blows,
as peace and friendships win.
The flame of holy change
is passed from soul to soul.
Revolution’s fire burning,
till every man be whole.
Coffee’s on the stove.
The soup and bread are warm.
Someone’s knocking at the door.
We’re home before the storm.
Home, a stage for the play of life.
The hearth of love’s warm fire.
Home, the setting for life’s story.
Crackling flames reach ever higher.
Safe, in life’s last holdout.
It’s darkest ‘fore the dawn.
To hide in warmth and comfort,
till the dark and danger’s gone.
Reach for lights last holdout,
until the world be whole.
Let twilight’s last holdout
hide within your soul.
Ride toward light’s last holdout,
past the clouds that float and roll.
And there let light’s last holdout
be found within your soul.
And there let light’s last holdout
be found within your soul
