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My child your child
Is gone to  another place
Where we cannot go 
As has been said; "Life
Changes us more than
Death" and death maybe
Kinder than life without
A love that one  never forgets-
A sister of the church once
Spoke to God and said " Lord
I have given up everything but
My Faith in Thee what more can
"
I do?  The Lord said then Sister
Give up your your Faith . Sister
Theresa Cried because it was all she  
Had and it was the hardest to let go of
But the end of  Faith is ever obedience.
If it be so  then death where is thy sting?
Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in
Heaven Thy will be done. Ojala!  Ojala!
Where neither  moth nor rust corrupt and
Where born again all  to Love are restored.


For my parents who gave Kahliil Gibran's "The Prophet"
as a graduation present and
Who spoke more eloquently than I  can about losing children
Because they are God's Arrows and go where we cannot follow
en give up
Never has the thin veil of maya seemed so obvious
Even as it enlarged itself in the omnipresent media
That in vain parade proclaims a total victory over
All beneath and above.  In this separated zone in
Which our lives are lived but are not the one ttruth
Is prohibited, crucified, buried and Love in the grave
Is proclaimed dead in the flesh, but from there rises
Again first in our hearts and minds where one looks
Out-  A child laughs and we know all is well at last.
The perfection of every love
Is never truly known until it's
Passing...And in the shadows
Of the past are the beginning of
Tomorrow-are our bower where
All our labors are  offered up as
as  the not articulate prayers of
The untutored child telling  of his
Wish that love be known at last
For then is our life at an end but
Why should knowing be to die?
ot
God said it is a dream
And I Am the Dream
Then man the one He
Made in His own image
Said A Dream What is
A Dream?  I shall find
Out-Then after using
All his reason; his tools
His science ;and coming
Up with many enigmatic
Arcane and complex ideas,
Formulations made up of
Pride, vanity and bestowing
A great sense of superiority
Over his cowed and ignorant
Fellows and to be fair paid for
with much mental labor and
Sleepless night and much
Oppression of others thru
Ages and ages till at last
He declares I have got it,
Almost got it as he falls
On his bed sick of all his
doings and there hears
A still small voice, a child's
That He heard long ago in
His youth: "It is only a dream
A dream  and I  the  Dreamer

As Mark Twain said in his auto-
Biography: "It is mostly true"
Sam Clemens said it all in the
"Mysterious Stranger"
There is a Land of Magic
A bold fingger points the
Way as if to a solid place
You can travel.  But it is to
The -unbelieveable.-you are
Beckoned and the truths are-
That are iconic- that are in
Hollywood revevisited are.
But the signs that you must
Seek are something stranger
More inexplicable that is
The self you do not know
Yet I say: This is not it but...
It is a greater mystery still.
If only I could have kept my children close
To me-  feeling my love for them ; and they
Showered me in their Joy that we werea
Famiy I would feel myself the geatest of
Kings without any riches added.   Nor in
Worldly powers but in what is the most
Important- what is truly the desired and
Beyond price.  Is this not so God asked ?
And I saw He had tears in His eyes.
 I said Father it is the Truth.  I am
A Father too  and with tears I spoke..
There is something of Perfection in
Improvisation and something of
Free association in perfection of.  
Beauty in the eye of the beholder

To me the child's letters speak  
With meanings more divine
Than the most polished words
Do we not with our heart first
Make music yet never hear it.
I have not peace with death
Though it may be the peace
I do not now know will come
But to live shunned by love-
What sort of life is that-It is
War and a divided house can
Not stand-One side is for the
Union the for the other against
Love divided is not Love but if
For Love I stand I must also go
To war and cannot agree to die
Whilst yet we are divided my
Love.  Love is not Love that is
Not whole.  Love is One. As a
Nation so unto each of us- Love
Conquers all even death-  To
Death I say it is not with you
I have an argument-  For all
I know I might have come to
You sooner but for the War
For the sake of Love I had
To press on;  For Love is not
Love that would not be as
One   Let the war be over
Then Lord, I will know that
Love everlasting is the end
For which we fought and died
Won for all the ages to come
Come! With Charity for All
And malice towards none.  



For Abraham
Little Liss kissed my lips
So chaste and ....
Sweet  It pierced my heart
Where she always lives
Now she is all grown up
But on those lips she be-
Quated a gift-A secret . I
know its been said before:
"The past is not over its not
Even past".  He spoke of I
Think of  a time and place but
It was of a forever Love  and a
Truth that does not die but lives
On in in memories that return in
Dreams that are real as heaven
A place you will always be when
You get there like  " Last Stop:
'Willough... Be!'"...

(Some Place between Westport and Fairfield)


With attribution to Wm Faulkner and  The Twilight Zone by my
fellow Antiocian Rod S,

For Liss
ugighbyut
A pinch of heaven is enough  
To fuel a life and if life shouts:
Soon I shall be no more-then
I shall consign myself to the
Deathless dreams of youth
Saying if leave I must let me
Embark upon the ship of sleep
For I cannot say it is over but
That I endeavor to reach that
Farther shore  where lie the
Isles of eternal spring that once
Made glad my young heart...
That I yet might call them my
True home.  For when all that's
left:
proves itself mortal- what is not
Left was never left- shall be All
If fly we must to reach that Place-

On angel wings we shall

Fly like the seagull or frigate-

Bird.  We shall fly and  from

Earth


To sky  He shall show us ere we
Descend: Heaven.  For the small
Shall reign down, Can reign...
The fact that history may ever be a burlesque leaves villains space to make themselves likeable disguised as they are in our very own neighborhood Rubes and so winsome by a default predisposition for the merely familiar whereas the superior is merely strange.  It is an almost endearing flaw.
The faith in tomorrow's sun
does brighten as much as the
Present does and like memory
Does make sepia prints of the
Days gone by;  even of darkest
Times no others really know-
Am ashamed to acknowledge
Where weakness hides and
Says to Death it is cruel of you
Not to make it quick and so
I am waiting still for Now to
Pass as slow darkness comes
It would be heaven to be near you again
If you loved me half as much as I love you
It is even now heaven to hope to know you
Again.  I have this sense now that we getting
Together.  Life is getting better just thinking
That you might love me half as much as I do
You. Its like a dream come alive after death
I will do what ever you desire and we will be
In  heaven allowed because it is you I love-
And I will not forget how long it has been so
Good will it be when next we are together -if
You love me half as much as I love you it will
Be soon enough if you will just agree an't love
  Grand  Just Too Wonderful for words.


With intentions true we have got time on
Our side and heaven- is in sight.  There is no
Hurry still I cannot wait.  I see two phantoms
In the gloom=It is us we two right now- we
Approach in the mist those golden gates on
High where we wiii be joined together Almost
I hear the angels sing and the trumpets announce
Love Love is is it not a wonderful thing?  Two that
Were parted- are still in love .
Where death is not known but the broken hearts are
Healed.  Of this day the angels sing:
                  


Glory Glory Glory to God in the highest
Glory Glory Hallelujah
For now and all the times still to come


Oh little    
flower
Does it
Seem I
Make too
Much of Love
Perhaps you would
Have me gayer
Give me
Time its just I have
Missed you so
Much



*French song"
Long Temp Que Je t'aime   Jamais Je non t"Oublerai
joined
There are threads of contradiction; alternative
Voices cry and whisper protesting they are not
Heard and go to their unquiet grave still saying
They have rights too and should be allowed -by
The poet written. Why won't they just shut up;
Bawling infants, my own crying babes?  Because
They must be, coddled, rocked and sung to sleep
And so I tell them with truth that they are loved
That their needs are heard; their voices understood
Are woven into the strands that of every song -are
The silence,  the golden silence that makes visible
The Voice of Love that shall be heard forever more
Vi
Upon entering the microscopic
World one does not immediately
Forget what it is to walk a mile
But when there is no knowable
Way back one soon looks with
Greater interest on what there is
To notice-a whole other world.
How you got there is a mystery;
How you will  ever leave another
Mystery.  This too shall pass and
Every new thing is the beginning
and the end of the love for what is.
Now passes thru what now is.
I was traveling along a road at night.  Itt was in an area without street lights. An unidentified person was in in the passenger seat.  I felt like I was on familiar road from the past.  All at once we came on a a guest area it was brightly lit but more than that the light was a chromatic radiance gold firelike  and as if the diviseable spectrum was seen  I drove on into the darkness complaining to my companion that the brightness was too much.     After a little while we we came to another brightly lit roadside settlement, it was similarly lit and this time I noticed that as I passed the light did not fade but passed through the atmosphere undiminished by the distance-a bright  amber fire that was immediate even from miles away.  I said to my traveling companion that it was a new light  unlike any that I had known before.  Thinking I was complaining he said yes it was new.  Then I said that it is beautiful -the most beautiful light I have ever seen. He said: Thank you   It was then very early morning and I awoke feeling a sense that having seen the light even in a dream that I had been healed.  But  I remembered that it might be wiser  not to  hope.  
Mica is fools gold but it glitters not less for that; and the sea with diamonds sparkles with praise no less as it give its kisses back to the sun.  If a promise is not kept is a rose arose that promises less; can I then give up a  love that is too little? So I look back and forth upon a dream for  all that is yet  to be ..
Quite a long time ago I was invited to a picnic on the
Deleware River.  I do not remember the circumstances
I was a guest of another family--and it was an unusual
Excursion for me at some distance from my  place and
I was the guest of people not well known to me.  The
Site was a rural park on the river, a river flowing well
through woods with some sandy shoreline. There were
Few amenities but there was a canoe rental and I rented
One and proceeded down river.  After going perhaps a
Quarter mile I came upon a man who seemed to be adrift
I waved to him but he did not wave back and I paddled on
a ways but something struck me as odd and I turned my
Head and yelled back-"Are you all right?"  He said:" I am
Drowning"  I quickly went back and allowed him to grab
On and I took him to shore-a very short distance.  I do not
Remember if we exchanged any words and I never told a
Person about my strange experience.  Now all these years
Later the question I asked myself back then :why did not he
Cry out for help when I first passed him and not declare his
Need until I by some vague premonition called back to him.
By such a slender thread does life hang that a man might let
Go by- his salvation in the balcance and wait upon God or
Whim of fate to intervene  the balanced scales weighing-
Whether it is better to live or to die .  To be or not to be?
I do not now know the answer but see more clearly  the ?
Many years ago I told my Friend Ed the
Ex librarian a riddle I had heard-A man walks
for fifteen minutes to the East and then fifteen
North plants a flag goes back to his starting place
Changes his direction and travels West fifteen
Minutes then turn North and in few minutes he is
Back at the flag.  Where is he ?  I asked  Ed, a true
Scholar.  He pondered.looked puzzled and said I
Don't Know-Where?  I told him the flag was at the
North pole. He pondered too deep for me and said:
"There must be Another Place!" I knew he meant
Another reality.  The wonder The Wonder that it
Might be so and maybe so much better than this
Veil of tears it seems we know.  Last night  I was
There.  I woke up in my dream it was a somewhat
Desolate place, a tract near a city that once had been
Flat but ****** terrain over grown with  old brush
Dumped and growing.  A breeze was blowing when
First I saw it a she floating in the air-gamboling to
And fro-  I watched amazed and deciphered that I
Was watching an old worn garment carried about
By the wind.  It came to earth and I examined it and
So it was a thin bi of cloth.  I threw it is a pile of brush
Where it disappeared to my immediate regret because
I knew I had seen something quite marvelous and too
Odd to be ignored .  I put a stick into the pile and poked
For the cloth.  It immediately rose up but now it was two
pieces; a lamb that turned colors and frolicked delightfully
At my  very feet.  I turned to my anonymous friend and
Said even if we are only seeing dance of rags.  It surely
Has taken a goodly time for them to become such wind
Nymphs.  And is it not an augury that this is the time that
Childish dreams will soon be realized=maybe Peace is
About to come.  Is even now Immanent.  I think now of
Dickens: It was the best of times; the worst time.... A time
Like all times"- Magic is so interwove  into the ordinary
That one ner does see it until one wakes up in his dreams
A mysterious stranger at his side where another place. is
A place in the heart where the little king and i always reside
It is always about to be.  It is Now and nothing more...
very feet
It is hard to explain-The busy
World becomes more alien
You are no longer a part of
It-In truth it was never all
But the stranger in you is
Larger now till it is largest
You do not notice until you
Bump up against the world,
The normal seems so strange
It is a great pretense to know;
A self agrandisement, and
Vanity of knowledge-Un
Aware that all is passing
Away.  This you see more
And more but the World
Cannot Cannot admit it
Is only playing. Play is
For children is it not?
We  who are better know
WE Know; and must be taken
Seriously.  Such is the
World that with all of
Its might it thinks it is
Right.  Has the right
To be the lawgiver of
Reality; and woe to you
If you get in the way.
Alas poor Jesus, poet
Of the living gospel
You did not go along
It seems you are ever
More with me now.
And the Kingdom of
God still so far but more
And more all that matters.
It is hard to explain but
There must be Another place
Something every child knows.
There must be another place
The first place people were
Ever called Christians but
That Antioch was in Syria
My Antioch was in Yellow
Springs Ohio.  It was founded
By Horace Mann who has
Been given the title Father of
American  publiceducation.  He is
Best known to many for saying
"Be ashamed
To die until you have won
Some victory for humanity"  
It does seem to me that if
shame alone could keep one
From dying it would be highly
Prized and nobody would have
To die any more so that they we
As allll probably can truthfully
Summon up an adequate supply
of the product  in our biography
But come to think of it I believe
Horace Mann was a Christian
Of some type and He probably
Knew it-was way to keep us alive
In default of the great act which
May prove to be beyond our
Capacities, a perverse blessing
You might say but Antioch is a
Special place-A few years ago
It got resurrected and who can
Say that Horace Mann and may-
Be even shame had no part.  Any-
Way I can claim it as my alma
Mater, a still living place and
I did meet Billy Graham there
Well actually it was on an ex-
cursion to Indiana but that is
Another story I'll leave for later.
Every day you fight to get out of a world you never made
Maybe there are no great victories so you celebrate the
Little ones.  Soon enough you realize This is your life; it is
A process and you are in it; and so you say with a laugh
You call this living well maybe the worst is over. This may
Be less than  repentance; this resignation but there is a charity
In having lost what you would not lose there is still a way
So what your dead you say there is still a way forward
Fever felled you rise again and again  in the in between-
Still in the process making a gesture on the Grecian urn
The lover ever chasing the green child that is and is not.
There is peace in doing what you do; anticipation in the
Constant;  in the moment before you will hold your love.
Is there a greater Joy than this then I do not know it...
All's well that ends well
We fail a hundred times
Blame it on each other
Yet each time I get up
It's because I believe
All's Well that ends well
I will believe it to the end
That it will be the Truth then
Either way if
I live and die believing it
I lived  the best life had to
Offer. The hope that Love
Will be the victor here and
In the Hereafter.  Who cannot
Say with me- my God - God of
Love Let it be Let it be. Let ...
Thy will that is done-though a
Hundred times  and more I
Tried  and failed to make it so -
An if  I die and if I wake I will
Rise because
All is wells well that ends well
And only Love that can make it so                


Make it so.  In all that passes  
Let there be at the end  Love
As a little child I  came to Love
As a little child I have. loved.
Have a little child Loved
There"s a grief yet if I wake  
I'll Rise because I believe
All that's been can be redeemed
It is a better dream than mine yet
It is my Father's gift,. My child
At the end  of life   ts Love only
Only Love -can it  be that it Is

Is and all the difference makes










m










For my mom who told me at the end
of her life she prayed before bed her
childhood prayer:  Now I lay me down
To sleep; I.f I should die before I wake
I pray the Lord  my soul to take.
d the
If you cannot be outraged into disbelief
No matter how evil the matter reported
How can you believe in a Good God?
Do you not say to yourself what kind
Of a god allows this-Not Mine!  Does
A loving parent no matter how liberal
Ever knowingly allow his child to do
A grave injury to his fellow people?
I think not.  Freedom has its limits
That our true nature is grateful for.
Let me ask would you prefer that
There were no Holocaust deniers or
That there we no Holocaust.  I know
The Argument that we must Keep
Evil in our memory so as prevent it
Ever happening again.  How does
The saying go: No news is good news-
But it doesn't sell papers. I am not
Against fiction just glad that it is
Fiction.  But you say: What of the
Truth?  When Pilot asked Jesus
What is the the truth? Jesus made no
Answer except by His silence.  Yes
Silence is Golden. He did not answer
Neither should you or I.  I know this.
Bu we know in our hearts what Love
Would have  Be.  Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done on Earth as in Heaven
That is Our prayers that it be so Forever
Oh God  Help Us to Lift up our hearts.


And When have we ever been prevented
From doing wrong by hearing about it
.its just
Plain wrong.
And it is is mine that I
Speak of:  Once upon
A time a great truth I
Knew  great and good-
Know still its true and its.
No lie I tell but was a time
Apart and is not the same
The truth  I know it is
Great and Glorious from
Afar but not so much with-
In where  it fulled my heart
And soul.  Now I know but
I know less now than before
When twas a Glory that can
Not be remembered as the
Old woman said speaking
Of the Fall in mountains of
Her Youth -tiz but once
We know and must forget.
But as the poet said of our
Youth long is its memory
For this yearning sin I ask
Your forgetfulness and mine
That I may love you as myself
Though a thousand yesterdays were to pass in unremitting gloom If today be that day when all is changed and we could begin again  where we left off in Love"s first bloom what are all those days that went before?  They would be as naught  For now we would be in the midst of amber  Oh child the wonderful particulars of you.  Oh child  I  say it- let me love you always.
My soul what you will is lost
In obscurity.  If the means
That are best belong to the
Strong you know I am weak
But not yet can I be still. I
Am ignorant yet I speak:
Because I cannot escape nor
Embrace this unknowing.
I would know better but  I
Am not patient.  I stumble
In the dark. I curse;  I can
Not find the candle quickly
Enough.  But there is this:
In the darkness I know there
Is one greater than I am who
Knows what I need that in
His acceptance of me is my
Salvation-that the present
Darkness and distress shall
Not prevent His making of
It all the promised grace of
Love-making right my soul.
I am a sometimes sailor with many
Ports of call.  I am a dreamer and
I go where I go.  There  are only
Dreams on my itinerary- some
More vivid; some I like not at all
Some bright are not my type and
Some though dim are very rosey.

Between my voyages I know not
No thought and when I wake I
Have no idea where I've been or
If any time has passed.  I am dead.
Then I dream again waking from
The deepest sleep.  That's the way
It is.  Nothing lasts but the trip it-
Self.  I cannot count how many
Times I have died and rose again.
As the old woman said: You call
This living!  It is a sham.  To which
I reply a sham for you my darling
And most becoming.  She makes
No answer but I  I see the a twinkle
In her eye and that for me is good
Enough; Makes all the difference.
Out out brief candle...
I cannot agree with the darkening
Of the perishing of the just son
But it avails naught to show courage
Even for the noble cause.  Better
Than brave soldiering on; fighting
Against the dying of the light in a
War that is the womb of every sort
Of crime.  Is it not better to die
And be born again-to sleep; and
Perhaps dream a  better dream or
Not to dream, to wake or not wake
To signify nothing that I may be
Born again or not as God may let
Be ...At the end of the day. amen.
It is well finished this lover's quarrel.
At first we did not know that being
Good would feel so glorious but
Being so conditioned we looked
For the reward and in doing so
Something was lost of the
Original impulse so freely
Conceived; and the the reward
worked against the virtue
and the virtue against the reward
Both being diminished until the
Only thing that was left was the law
A weight against freedom that
Ever inspires rebellion for when
Freedom is lost virtue is dead.

For time to exist can only mean
That Love can be born again.
If we live in our dreams and hopes with
A strand of faith that someday all will
Be realized, while in our day to day
Life we feel we must pretend that such
Thoughts are are not who we truly are
Because that would estrange us from the
World of normalcy and convention, with
A price to pay.   Is it not reasonable, even
Yet to say desirable perhaps but always
Inevitable that one or the other of our-
Selves must needs die; and in the end it
Will not be a hard choice -to choose life
Knowing with God all things most real
That are for our salvation will be done.
Come He has said my burden is lite.
He who makes all things new knows:
In him who believes it is the old world
That is dying and a new world is  being
Born  and we nearer to God do rejoice
I could not get back He said
It was at the bus stop and he
was not dressed in red but I
Knew he was Santa even if he
Looked to be be a common
***.  He said he had given
All, every he had even his
Means to get back home, this
Last to some poor child who
Needed it-and he got stuck
Here and admitted he had
Taken to drink to keep up his
Spirits but that it did not work
Well for him he said with tears
In his eyes.  I gave him all my
Change and said God Bless and
He said the same to me- it was
Not much but it seemed to make
Him happy. As he boarded the bus
I told the girl at my side: That is
The real Santa Claus, but I do not
Think she believed me.  Seems kids
Grow up so fast these days, don't
Believe nothing they can't under-
Stand; and I can't say as I blame
Them.  What is a Santa without
Presents even if he has already
Given everything away.  Anyway
If you see him tell him I remember
Him and still miss him and I hope
He got home because its Christmas
Time again and there are some little
Ones who still believe in Him.

For   Charlie    Remembering  Santa Cruz
Wishing Everyone a Merry Christmas& a Happy New Year
If there be two who do not love
They are not alone only lonely.
The great Poet who Made the
Universe who said He made us
In His likeness knowing He is
One comprehended that all His
Children would be little ones
We  all have that in common
We are all one like our Father
And like God our essence is
Love.  To Love is our being
So doing we magnify His Being
The knowledge of His Goodness
When we love one another we
Experience His sweetness. Two
Are one -three are one; All are
One.  If we experience loneliness
As each does it is a knowing that
Our love is still incomplete Calling
Us to love more for our peace is not
Complete-to experience the greater
Oneness we are capable of....

This is not work but for His Children
Their burden is lite-it is called Play
Play on children.  Play is the Way to
The perfect.  The God of Love will
Forgive your mistakes as we are all
Still learning, practicing to know. He
Will be with you to the end of the world
Claim you at the gates Heaven as His
Own forever and the fullness of Your
Love for all the children will be like
His.  A play where our better dreams  
Are realized; and We are the Dreamer-
All the One who because wel are  one  in
Another in a time that never ends.
Except at night when we sleep the
Sleep that is the Peace  of Innocense
He looked at His Creation and saw
That it was good a'n said: I Love You



For Lissa &Bren

And for all  Chidren.:"I Love You"
Be confident that
You do not know
What is or may be
What is true about your
Self or others.
Be confident you should
Not  judge
Everything human is in your
DNA
Every potentiality can  be
manifest
All destinies
Your possibility
Be ready to know a
New Truth
That you may be
Forgiven for what you
Once Thought to be
Is not
Here in this is your true
Confidence to be
Found that to be
Is not to be
That If I Love  I  am Loved is
The basis for my confidence
I will overcome
I am
Confident that
I will be
Humble
For to be so be is for
All
Our convergent destiny




For my mother with
Love













t


New
There is a meaning so high and pure that
Who here below can say it true: I love you.
Yet I have said it so many times to you I do
Not count the times and ways daring not to
Question my heart knowing that all hearts are
Unknowable and desperately evil-yet the psamist
Says to lift them but I have never stood upon this
Formality of authentication but pleased myself and
Made myself less if only aspiration could be heard
As truth I could ne'er wait to tell you,  Be that is it
May and granting you your higher  ethic Before I
Go I would count it a kindness from Him above if
Before I go you would say I love you too forever
If there be two who do not love
They are not alone only lonely.
The great Poet who Made the
Universe who said He made us
In His likeness knowing He is
One comprehended that all His
Children would be little ones
We  all have that in common
We are all one like our Father
And like God our essence is
Love.  To Love is our being
So doing we magnify His being
The knowledge of His goodness
When we love one another we
Experience His goodness. Two
Are one -three are one; All are
One.  If we experience loneliness
As each does it is a knowing that
Our love is still incomplete calling
Us to love more for our peace is not
Complete-to experience the greater
Oneness we are capable of....

This is not work but for His children
Their burden is lite-it is called Play
Play on children.  Play is the Way to
The perfect.  The God of Love will
Forgive your mistakes as we are all
Still learning, practicing to know. He
Will be with you to the end of the world
Claim you at the gates Heaven as His
Own forever and the fullness of Your
Love for all the children will be like
His.  A play where our better dreams  
Are realized and We are the Dreamer-
All the One because we love  one
Another in a time that never ends.
Except at night when we sleep the
Sleep that is the Peace  of Innocense
He looked and sawt His Creationc Saw
That it was good and said I Love you.
Better there be liars than what  they say
Be True.
Bhere be no faith than the faithful
Be deceived.
Better there be no hope than it be in what
Is not good.  Better there be no love that
Cannot make things better.
Better is not vain, better is patient. Better
Is possible.  For as God sent His Son..
Knowing on earth there is none that is
Righteous-that men are credulous and
Esteem and fear what is unknown to
Heaven. So why did He come: why will
He come again, leave the perfect place?
Because He felt our pain and knew He
Could make things better.  There is here
Nothing greater than Bette For more we
Will have to die and go to Heaven and
Someday return when the cries of God's
People weighs upon His heart enough to
Again undertake what seems less and
Forever unfinished.  Why do this--to make
Things better.   Here on earth we will take
Vows and be unfaithful, be betrothed to a
Vanity posing as Love.  We say for Better or
Worse but the worse is separation from God.
So we cry out for help,  Come Oh Lord.
Come quickly.  Great is our need as Thou
Knows-Come now and Make things Better.
Until death do us part let us know your
Charity.  Let us forgive even as forgiven.
Big
Big
The big Universe an't too important to me.
Sure its awesomely big-but how important
Is that? to you and me-I would venture no so
Much.  Like  Vegas it's grand  and awesome
But one gets sated pretty quick of astonishment
It works best when it not too commonplace. So
What really matters, well its being loved with
Enough to eat and not too much pain or heartbreak.
I am sure this is what matters most to  our God the
One who hears our prayers.  Now don't get me wrong
I think the moon and stars are wonderful not to leave
Out the sun but I love more The  Son- did I mention My
Daughter she is certainly worth two Universes to me.
As I was saying all that big stuff is the icing on the cake.
Of fools and wise men there is  this
The Ocean says: both go down, but
They are best with a pinch of salt.
For it makes liter that which can
Rise again but sinks the rock of
Pretentious certainty to the deep.
I remembered you like it was
Yesterday, a long time ago
Brown eyed girl where was
It now that we were then?
I know we had a thing but
I forget what it was but for
A moment it was all coming
Back but it was so long ago
Hidden in a dusty niche
I felt tears welling- how much
I had lost a to time-the unknown
Unnowns of yesterdays that
I had once been familiar with.
As if between dreams;
Under attic eaves in an
Amber dusty light there
Was a time every day I
Used to come and play
With a little kitten to
Forget a world that was
Too much.
Not quite real nor
Yet a dream. a place
In between>  It was you
My brown haired girl.
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.
It seems to me I never loved any
Churches except at a distance.
And could say I have reasons.
Oh yes their bells and steeples;
The gospels and their songs
Are pleasing; and lot of my
Friends claim like me there
Was a time they went but
Now have mostly on their
Own.  Still sometimes I wish
I could have foumd one I
Loved for still in my heart
I do worship Thee.  When
The Saints come marching
In I don't suppose I will be
In that number.  If there is
No room for me I will lie in
Meadow glad enough to be
By myself and I will praise
You just the same-but glad
I would be for some of my
Childhood friends  and my
Old dog; and you of course
My first love to be in heaven.
And we will listen to the bells
And the singing of the hymns
In the distance and we will be
Glad to be off where we are.
Love does encompass error
One thinking he loves but
Loves not. The fault is very
Inward intimate to the per-
Son who's self searching
Discovers it not but still
The core of truth is one
And so brings to repent
The proud soul- the small
Shrouded light within and
The great light without do
Meet forever in the eternity
That is the combustion of the
Wrongful if unconscious pride
That separates man from man.
In perfect love  God's glory over-
Coming all lesser knowings that
Christ shall be to us the everyman
How many thing have I left undone
I do not know,  Let me not count the
Ways I have not told you that I love
You.   Faith hope and love all shall
Be understood even without  words
Words in stillness not spoken unheard
Then

I will know that you know I  do
I will know I am there with you
That we are living in Alternative
History and How long has it
Been?  If we have anything
To thank DT for it is at last
We must take the question
Seriously and if we choose
In the affirmative- What
If anything can we do.?
Can I can you Wake up
If we don't realize we are
Dreaming; a serial dream
Of many days and nights.
I imagine it will take a  loss
Of memories, a collective
Alzheimers in which we
Return to childhood where
History is only a rumor, a
Fairy tales that has some
Entertainment value to
Adults; but  is a story
We can only enter into
By a suspension of Dis-
Belief; and what do we
Really believe in in those
Childish days  For myself:
There is a Mother and Dad
A baby sister Sue, My two
Grandmothers and my
Aunt. My neighborhood
My dog Stubby and my
First best friend Ronny.
My neighborhood of
Small houses on a circle
Other children.Exploring
A little woods secluded
And finding some big
Mica rocks and strange
Red bugs under them with
Ronnie and Stubby nearby
All the time in the world
Today...  I suppose  that this
Too is a dream or  memory
Of a dream.  But it is a
Better dream and some
Of us old folks know it.
Just too many fake facts
Today  and so Donald
It's good to know that
There is something we
Can agree on even if
Its not that you really
Won the presidency.
The courage to be is in
Our hope that our love
Will prevail.  The One
That hears our sincere
Prayers that speaks our
Deepest truest need;.Has
The power of clemency
Make yield every heart
Or despair of it's own
This is the truth that we
Shall love one another
The One that saves us is
The One who spoke it: All
In their heart of hearts do
Know it.  Of such it comes:
The courage of our hope is
That we know  that in Love
We shall over come all in a
Joyful victory that is Love's
Reward; and that Love  is to
Us given who yearned to for
It. We wait now upon the Lord
In joyful hope for the fullness
His Coming-.Coming quickly
In these hallowed halls silence echoes
Saying  am that which is not that else
May be heard.  Time is the child of the
Timeless; the void is the womb of form.
I am different from the others the hallower
Of  souls; and the faithful companion of
All who are alone and craving not to be.
Well all have fallen short  of the glory
Of God as it says in scripture  But is that
To be man's  epitaph to define us as we are?

Sin is to be false to God and ourselves
So it stands to reason that we really are
Not sinners but pseudo sinners acting a
Part that is not who we really are.. We are
Rather the children of God who forgot
That we are playing a part Poor fools who
Struggle and fret...Such things children do.

I will not argue which comes first Repentance
Or Redemption except to say God does not of
His original Being repent of Love or His own.
But perhaps it is wrong to stay His hand when
It comes to the perverseness of human nature.
His children consider not -to not to know His will
That they should live and rejoice therein though
It be their true desire-So would have Him choose
For them and to make known to them His Will
That from gross deception they should be saved=
Such is the pride of play that it forgets it plays  As
Babes up past the   bed time order run rampant when
Most in need of sleep.  There is His rod He makes
Us rest- to dream and wake again: To be who we
Truly are not all knowing- But still His children
Creation begins with an act of love so let it end.
Have you ever felt that in living
You had failed in some irredeemable
Way  Clinging to  some fundamental
Failure of body and soul-Blame God
That you have not been loved by the
One you loved with all your heart and
Still were not worthy.  Blame God.an'
Die  For He made you and in the end


You are God's failure too It is He who
Abandoned me He must not be left
Uncharged nor can He be denied justice
If He is accused He must be tried for
His crimes against humanity before
He can be sentenced to be abandoned
Too
An abandoned soul an abandoned God
God its His choice at the end of the
Road we will travel together as One
The Way of knowing Love 'n joy; or not
Knowing why we live at all.  I do not
Know if I should curse God and die or
Why I should not. if you  see me 'n not
Help me  in the troubles that drag me
To the grave with  no one I loved caring
And the One who could -doing nothing to
Change things but gave me these words 
I am telling Him I am sorry but it is how I
Feel and how He left me feeling alone,
If I speak wrongly I stand as Job and say to
God I spoke as I did because I knew not.



For Barbara My wife who first led me to Job's story
It  was Job's wife who tired of his lamenting unrelenting
tribulations  told him to: "Curse God and die"  May she
Be in Heaven where as Jesus told us none do marry...
There still we Love as we did en our better dreams
n
All along the way is the way
Some times unseen some times
Dimly as through a window as at
Dawn or  dusk  Day by day is forever
Forever is a long long time but I will
Be coming as long as your kingdom is
Day by day till the end of time
In the shade rise the colors of all you love
And one by one everything is gone.  No
Not all but way too much the shade of
What was fading till the less  and less of
What once was but death you who were
From the beginning with me and who did
Paint with exquisite beauty all that I ever
Loved are now my last companion,faithful
To the end, a friend  to stand against all the
Loss.  If you leave me then I shall truly be
Alone
  It ii is a   light too great, a light without the
Night.  Blinding.  Oh death do not desert me.
I know I have raged against the dying of the
Light but now I know better.  Death did shade
My eves did make me see and love the other.  Oh
Death  must be born again for all I have Loved is
Naught if not for thee-that has been revealed  The
Last shall be the first. Hidden charity is its ensign.
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