I always thought prodigal meant
profligate, dissipated, or debauched -
such unpoetic but robust words.

There’s the story of the prodigal son
the young man who got an early inheritance
from his old father and left home
to spend the wealth
on ******, and sinful living
yet when he returned home broke and broken
his father received him with open arms and tears.

Sadly I can identify with that son
having spent so much
in such a way
over my lifetime.

But a man told me it should be called
the story of the prodigal father,
the daddy whose love for his son
was utterly lavish, reckless, and generous.

Oh, to be a man
with such an extravagant love!

Let There be Barbies

          Let the children have their night of fun and laughter.
          Let the gifts of Father Christmas delight their play.

                   -Churchill, Christmas Eve radio address, 1941

Some young mothers ban Barbies and Santa Claus
And all such trinkets and dolls and mummeries
Sacrificing childhood to fashionable gossip -
In obedience to the Holy Internet

A toy Cochise must never ride again
Or little plastic soldiers defend their forts
Or Maid Marian roam with Robin Hood –
Barbie must never be dressed for success

Little children can now sit on the floor
On Christmas morn to play with ideologies

Find good in people and ignore the bad in them.
4/12/2020

we have forgotten
how small we really are
even though the simple sky
full of bright yet distant stars
would remind us every night
if we would just turn off the lights

we have forgotten
our true place on the earth
as the responsible care-takers
we weren't cast out of the garden
we left by our own free will and choice
neglecting important dependants
in our search for a better life

many claim wisdom
a last word
in a Universe
that never ends.

even broken words
can point to the horizon
indicating the wholeness
of the swollen moon
as it hangs low and heavy
tumbling along in the
fullness of its cycle

even broken words
can point upward
indicating the infinite
in the cathedral skies
as translucent layers of
impossible number
and impossible shades of blue
together compose the deepest color
of the symphonic midday sky

even broken words
can heal