It is that something extra that preserves the
Ordinary-that loses nothing of the common
Place but adds adds to it the magic that is
Inherent in it.  That it is wonderful, that it
Is the most great wonderfulness there is
Because it is a greatness that gives itself
Not to a small select few but to every
Experience that we have.  It is an over-
Flowing fountain spilling glory on all in
The recognition of God in all and all in
God.  Such was the coming of the Holy
Spirit to the disciples-The Gift of knowing
The all encompassing Truth that filled
Them with such glory it seemed that they
Were possessed by a drunken madness.

The perfect Is where all
See them selves as they
Truly are.  Yet it is but
A reflection.  The mirror
Is the shiny allegory in
Which all can see them
Selves but if no one asks
Who is there?  The mirror
Says nothing back. If all
Men can see Christ in  their
Life did he ever really live?
Look in the Perfect Mirror
Tell me who is there?

There is hidden charity.
Where?
Where you think there is none.
Why it is here you mean?

Just so.
But if it is so Why is there so
Much sorrow?
Blessed are the poor...
Ha how can that be; if it
Were so all would wish to be
Poor.
It is great mystery is it not?
He said: My burden is lite
Unpack your goods it is
Almost Summer.  Let us
Rest beneath that tree.
See it labors not, has not
Nor wants more yet how
Great it grows.

We do not know what we do
Not know even that that we
Do not know it.  For might
Not some lost language
Of our infancy that we
Were born knowing but
Got covered up by disuse
Was forgot-Say a fluency
Of tonality akin to speaking
In tongues- a language of
Great power and subtlety
If we could hear it spoken
Telling us to Wake Up
We would then remember
And be transformed-cured
Of all diverse complaint
Healed of all injury.  I
Do but say such is my
Intuition that it is so and
Maybe so for all I know
A mysterious sleeping
Truth all but forgotten
May be revealed again
In its first pure light.
The beginning of All
Ever beginning, a glory
So new that it cannot be
Remembered but yet is
Always known to love.

I can see my father's land
Where he grew up.  It is a
Mythical place and was also
To him though more richly
Imagined but in essence
The same.  It is enchanted
Yet knowable, distant yet
Clearly seen as I see him
His eyes looking out over
The water-a life guard
Seemingly focused on the
Far horizon but also with
The heart searching the
Past yet aware of his duty
A sentinel like the statue
Of the Minute man that
Stands guard at the place
Where the  roads diverge
Just before the beach. What
Is this place to me-a bridge
Between his past and mine
It is the idyll of youth so
Vivid, too glorious in its
Exaggeration and rowdy
Crime- of things as they are
And can never be undone
That in the end they cannot
Be repented of because they
Are gone to the golden place
In the sky where the children
Of Summers past still play
Beyond this place.  Like all
Children they know not what
They do and then it is gone.

For Ray all the Old CBVLG and their families,
For Mr Dayton Deacon of the Beach; and
Wild Foster who started it off and with a
Remembrance of how we loved Tag Day
11/17/2016

I am climbing
The tallest mountain
Because I want to be there-
Where there is no mountain
I am climbing still to where
There is no mountain only
Air.  Then soaring higher
Because still I am not there
Where I can see the green
Earth as it is in heaven
Then if I fall say I fell in
Love.  I am climbing still
Climbing in the air.

My friend was depressed and
He had good reason to be
I came at him with some very
Pretty arguments that things
Were not quite so bad as that.
He listened quietly as he drank
When I finished he said that is
All very fine but it is just after
All only a thought of mind.
And I knew it was so.  What
After all do all our fine words
Amount to?  Can they change
Great injuries and make them
Seem gracious and beautiful.
Can we live in a perfect world
Where we are not, may not
Really be.  I thought of those
Friends of Job who gave him
Good counsel but spoke not
Understanding that it was
Not wisdom that was wanted
But the light of knowing what
They did not know- Joy actual.
wiithout which wisdom remains
In darkness; and is meaningless.
There is a new paradigm, that
Quantum leap into another
Experience that is not known
Before it is known.  In that place
We must stand Like Job knowing
That He did not Know pleading
Ignorance before the whirlwind
God made manifest is known.
Till then it is all only a thought
Of mind.  My friend you were
Right and I a fool unknowing

For my friend Charlie.