Tenemos

Spirit calls me from this quotidian world
Celts speak of the thin places
Where the veil between time and the timeless 
is as shear as a dragonfly's wing

On an early summer's day on the Holy Isle
I lingered by the  old Abby church 
Its ancient stony fence, deceptive
in it's simplicity,
has weathered the western ocean's
 cutting salty winds for centuries

As they repaired the weather worn barrier,
two young islanders fingered a small stone
with great care as if 
They were restoring  an Arras tapestry 

An inner voice held me motionless
We were enmeshed in the eternal
They were in prayer, you see,
And I was, as well

Note: Tenemos is a Greek word for sanctuary.  The Holy Isle is Iona located in the Inner Hebrides just off the coast of Scotland.  It is the seat of Celtic Christianity as St. Columba founded a monastery there in the latter part of the sixth century.  

McSorley's Bones

The massive double globed gas lamp
hangs over the ancient oaken bar
It's soft diffusive light reveals the burnt amber patina
of this famed watering hole, redolent of beer-and-sawdust
The long brass rod between the lamps appears to be filled
with pendulous misshapen clothes pins

They are in fact old turkey wishbones of
variable vintage
An oft told tale speaks of World War I dough boys
who hung these talismans to mark their leaving as well as
their hope of a safe return
The unclaimed bony relics hang aloft
in watchful remembrance of those who didn't come back

Over the years the bony relics became encased in
great tufts of thick grey clinging dust,
an eminence grise, never to be disturbed
The public health bureaucrats disagreed and
issued an order to remove or clean them

The oldest bartender attended to this sorry chore
He cradled each in his hands and cleaned it
like a curator restoring a Meissen porcelain
He returned the ones that didn't crumble in his hands

The shrouds of great gray dust were laid
reverently in a container which the old man
put in a place of honor in his home

What's in a Name

"What's In a Name?"

I don't know her name
I saw her only once at the supermarket
She was on line ahead of me

There was a sudden frenetic conference
between clerk and manager
They looked at her askance as
the line lengthened

Curiosity overcame annoyance
My glance deepened and lingered
She had a few basic staples,
potatoes, cooking oil, beans, syrup

Her welfare check wasn't enough
She accepted the news with good grace
Nodded and moved the syrup to another place

I noticed her wedding band and
her crisply laundered McD's uniform
A young Hispanic mother with the face
of a Rafael Madonna
 Returns to an uncertain future with quiet grace

I  don't know her name
I wish I did

Let the Small Things Speak

Let the small things speak
I whispered to the small child
as we sat by  a vernal pond
one soft evening in early April

I hear jingle bells,  Miss Rachel!
She whispered back in wonder
Where are they?
All around us in the darkness

Hundreds of tiny frogs sing
in a fairy chorus to
welcome Spring's return
They peep together to
ring their elfin bells

How big are they?
Peepers are petite,  like your pinkie
They have a  big X on their backs
because they are special

Why are they special?
They are Mother Nature's
sentinels
They watch for trouble in
their homes by the pond

What trouble?
Some grownups throw 
poisoned garbage into
the rivers which feed ponds

They claim it's harmless
But the peepers know better
Their food vanishes and 
their eggs die
And they too die

The other wild creatures who
visit the ponds,
Fish, birds, beavers,
must move away or die
Until, one day, Spring comes in silence

June 1989

Sometimes drawers are portals
A yellow envelope trapped
in the back of an old desk drawer
Warns 'Save, June 1989'

A long forgotten photo with
a brittle news clipping
Stopped my breath
I travelled to China in June 1989

Our host, seated between us,
grins warmly into the future
As do we
The AP dispatch describes
a horrific scene

"In the spring of 1989, Tiananmen Square,
set in the center of Beijing, became the site of the
largest pro-democracy movement in China in the
twentieth century. ...... (during) giddy days in April and
May in 1989 throngs of more than a million filled the
streets of Beijing, criticizing the growing corruption.
..... And then, after several exhilarating weeks, it all came to a sudden end. In the early hours of June 4, as the world watched in horror, the tanks of the People's Liberation Army rolled
toward Tiananmen Square and troops fired on the crowd
killing hundreds and wounding thousands."

Memories gush forth like
an opened sluice gate
A kaleidoscope of jumbled
images
Slowly begin to coalesce
into days we relished in June 1989

A Peking Duck dinner with new friends
Open flow of opinions and ideas
Punctuated by hearty toasts
to the liberty to come in June 1989

Students in hotels greet Westerners
with eagerness and anticipation
To practice English and chat about
their dreams soon to come in June 1989

An old man on the street
invites us to tea at his simple home
We write in his guest book along with
other global visitors in June 1989

John, more than guide rather
kindred spirit
Filled with exuberance and faith
in the future
Will visit when his student visa
is approved in June 1989

So many friends lost
Phantoms now
They haunt my dreams
every day since June 1989