The Journey of Life
Series 3
To view Series 1 click here and for Series 2 click here.
Lost Being Found

The lone beach chair stands,
....the umbrella providing shade
....from the intense southern sun.
A solitary figure sits
....peering into the distance.
In this pre-season
....only a few stroll
....the seemingly endless sands
....along the South Carolinian shore.
The waves roll one after the other
....in rhythmic symphony.

The eyes close
....as the salty smell of the sea
....transforms moments
....to destinations beyond the explicable –
....where senses are sensitized
....and thoughts become non-thoughts.
For the briefest of times,
....one becomes lost, lost in peace.
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Comments: As you will note in the Suggestions section, I just returned from Hilton Head Island, SC. While there, one early morning, I watched a fellow set up his chair and umbrella on the beach, ready to enjoy the day. From that observation came this poem.
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What It's All About

“It’s the journey
....not the destination,” the avatar declared.
BUT, BUT, I’ve all these plans –
....goals to achieve.

Ego, ego, is what they’re all about.
See me, watch me accomplish all I say.
The warmth of the bright lights exhilarates –
Look how eminent I am.
Ego, ego, is what I’m all about.,

Let go, let go, your worth is already weighed.
You are no more, no less than any other.
The moment, this moment is what you have.
The journey, this journey is what it’s all about.

Comments: The title is a little play on words from the movie Alfie. However, the poem attempts to take you beyond the mere triteness of self-indulgence. It evolved after watching a wonderful movie, Peaceful Warrior, starring Scott Mechlowicz, Nick Nolte, and Amy Smart. The opening quote comes from the movie, though I have heard it often from other sources. May you enjoy YOUR journey.
The Source, Redux

Seated yogi style
...on the waved-boarded sand,
...alone except for a gull or two,
...sea air dries the skin;
...tai chi is done for the day.

Breathing in and out–
...in and out–
...so pleased to have returned
...to the source.

Comments: Whenever I am near the beach, I try to rise early before many people arrive and do a short yoga and several tai chi forms. The duo are a wonderful way to start the day. On the particular morning that this poem was drafted, almost nobody was around. To add to the experience, the sea breeze was refreshing, the sun was rising as if from the ocean, and I felt at peace.
My company during the writing of The Source, Redux
Eternity (2)

Is it like the incessant waves
Rolling from the sea?
Or, is it like their constant roar,
Sometimes louder, other times quieter,
But always there?

Upon awakening someday,
Will what one sees be changed forever,
Or will it be a mere step
Into nothingness but everythingness?

For now, this moment,
Breathe in and breathe out.
Eternity can wait.

Comments: The "2" signifies that it is my second effort at addressing this eternal question.

The Knell

Waiting for her last breath to escape
....allowing the soul to transcend human form,
....the daughters reminisce.
The photograph of the now long-gone
....beloved husband and father
....rests at the bedside.
“Here, he has glasses on, and here he doesn’t.”
The two sisters talk and laugh
....about childhood adventures.
Pictures long-saved by their mother
....are passed back and forth.
Bits of frozen time come alive again.
On, into the night,
....they listen to their mother’s faint breaths.

Comments: This poem was written during my mother-in-law's last day upon this earth. As she lay in her bed, Janice and Marcia went through the many pictures and mementos that Mabel had brought with her to the extended care home.

The Visitor

You came unannounced one day
To my father
Those many years ago.
You hovered and waited
Patiently until the time
Had come
Before departing with the man
That sired me.
When you return,
As you have done with my ancestors,
No amount of pleading
Will stall your task.
I wait breathing in and out
Realizing you
Are only a breath away.

Comments: We often fear this visitor. However, this is one that we cannot avoid.
.....The Search
.....Peer into the void.
.....See the dark endlessness.
.....The cry echoes
.........as if reverberating
........off the canyon walls.
.....There is no reply.

.....Are not the possibilities endless?

.....Somewhere in the emptiness
........is the answer.
.....Be patient and listen
.......for it will become
.......your constant companion.

.....Comments: Up to your interpretation.

  • To Forgive
    So hard
    So difficult
    Letting go
    Of the gnawing and aching
    That eats away

    Revenge wells up
    Causing the spirit
    To decay
    Twisting and stunting growth
    Overwhelming the senses

    With false pleasures
    Of anticipation
    Forgiveness releases the pain
    Letting go permits
    Freedom to again swathe
    The body in peace

    Comments: One Sunday, my pastor spoke on the topic of forgiveness
    being critical to one's faith. As he
    spoke, this poem evolved from his sermon. Many of the world's problems would disappear if the true spirit of forgiveness could be practiced–
    certainly a fitting theme for this time of year.
The Sunday Pilgrimage – Why?

What brings me each Sunday
...to a service filled with predictability?
The routine, the order–
...all bestow a sense of cohesiveness
...and comfort in this chaotic life.

Or is it the unpredictability that lures me?
Surprises await,
...whether in the message or songs
...or some infinitesimal act
...that impacts the I am.
Or is it my faith?
..."Jesus loves me yes, I know. . ."
Even that simple, deep phrase
...only rings true on occasion
...depending on day, hour, and moment
...as I search and question,
...desiring exactitude in a concrete-less world.

What is it that draws me
...to this congregation of travelers?
Perhaps, it is the knowledge
...that we are on the ark together–
...all waiting for the Dove of Peace to light,
...forever peering into the Infinite–
...Our Creator.

Comments: I wrote this poem in answer to a question that my minister addressed to the congregation, Why do you come to church each Sunday? Though this poem was written with a Christian bias, it actually refers to the human condition in multiple faiths. Perhaps, you never have doubts, but that is not me. However, I sense that many of you sometimes question the very basis of your faith as you search for answers in one form or another. One of the greatest saints of our time, Mother Teresa, in her autobiography speaks of the many doubts and near loss of faith that she experienced. But like her, we continue to persevere in our spiritual journeys.

In Tune

The green leaf spirals
...to the asphalt
...unhurt by the fall,
...its role almost complete.

A snowflake
...whipped by blizzard winds
...comes to rest on the glacial field.
Weeks pass.
The sun rises on crystal clear days.
The once one merges with the billions
...into the rushing river.
The meadows below
...bloom from their gifts.

The baby cries,
...gasping for first breath.
Life’s challenges
...shape the toddler
...into adulthood.
All too soon
...the hair grays
...and the final gasp ceases.
Another cycle complete.Onward
...Nature’s rhythmic beats continue,
...sometimes in syncopation
...but never out of tune.

Comments: The initial start to this poem was when I watched a leaf fall from a branch while on the bike trail. As the content evolved, the images became deeper.
Lahaina Methodist Church – Maui, HI
Kula Holy Ghost Catholic Church – Maui, HI
Upcountry Episcopal Church
Holy Rosary Roman Catholic Church – Paia, Maui
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