ring cling phone anew
hope for the whispered repeat
yes, I will speak now

wind nibbles and bites
bitter breeze screams, "let me in!"
my breath flies away

A playful poem for a painfully cold evening. Still, even when I could swear to myself that I feel my eyeballs freeze in their sockets, I am grateful for what I have: a family, roof, car, and warm clothing. There are so many people in my area without those resources that at the moment I can only pray for them and again be thankful for now.

fresh time in the cold
chasing, twirling, snow fighting
can it get better?

There was a magic moment with my son, Sam. A time when a walk to get some fresh air turned into a snowball fight and the chance to turn a simple rogue shopping bag into an exciting wind sock. We were in a park bordered by busy roads and occasionally I looked up an wondered if any of the passing drivers saw us playing. Did it make them think of their times playing innocently in the snow, because I can think of nothing more joyful than when the sun breaks in and turns new snow into glittering magnificence. What a wonderful day to be alive and with people that I love.

darkened days dream
and the morrow wakes fresh hope
yesterday stares back?

This has been a hard weekend when I've had to hold onto my sense that everything will be alright with both hands. I have found that there is nothing like bringing your child to another 4 year's old birthday party at a restaurant to bring out the parental doubts. It was a situation that was fun, but overwhelming to both of us. I just have to look my state of mind when I looked at the part where I placed a plate of cake designated for my wife on the roof of the car...and drove away...sigh.

It is something to hold onto, isn't it, that no matter how major or minor the darkened issues in your life, that sleep will eventually come with the eventual waking with the potential for hope.

Hope. I was just listening to an old recording of Pandora's story dramatizing how the perfect human was overcome by her defect of curiosity to open the forbidden box and release all of the human evils (e.g. pride, rage, and laziness). At the bottom of this container was the greatest of human virtues, hope. Tonight I choose hope.

blend the fear with hope
too sharp a knife springing life...
the pruned tree thrives

This last line has been working its' way through my thoughts today, that only a life with the discipline or disappointments of reality will "thrive."

If I am to be a contributing valuable part of the relationships in my life or of my community at large, then my ego and wants would need to be "pruned" and tempered by the hard knocks that I have been trying to avoid.  

Lately, I seem to run into many spiritual readings discussing such disciplines:
We cannot merely pray to You, O God,
     to end war;
For we know that You have made the
     world in a way
That man must find his own path to
     peace
Within himself and with his neighbor.
     --Rabbi Jack Riemer


The question I then have to ask myself; where am I uncomfortable in my life, what am I trying to avoid, and what is my plan to finally be successful in addressing those "uncomfortable" feelings?
I'm going to have to think about this.

break through the door space
then liminal truth changes...
scared to breath this much 

Okay, the topics of personal evolution and change are rearing itself in my life. At church, daily reading, and discussions with people in my life I am faced with the need to change the way that I am relating with the world.

This is good for me because I am reluctant, no extremely reluctant to change the way that I live my life. No, make that scared to death! I put a lot of energy in living safely and I am struck over the head by how little that has served me.

This poem speaks about that moment of choice where the traveler moves between the old world, through a threshold or liminal space, into the new and even unexpected possibility. 

I think a lot about that threshold of change. That decision to move out of my comfort zone. The Darwinian warning of "change or die."

Okay, breath. A friend recently told me that the difficulties of life only had to be dealt with "one day at a time." I can live with that otherwise I have more questions than answers.

burning in the cold
what truth in breathless wonder...
awake when they sleep

We have an incredibly cold day here in Northeast Ohio and I feel a naked sort of...happiness. Selfishly I have shelter and my needs are met, but there is also a moment scuttling through 8 degree cold when you are focused on your breath, your warmth, and your life force as the air cuts across your exposed skin.

Times like this, when I can clearly feel the border between myself and the air around me, reinforce for me that I am alive and here for a reason.

So do I get bogged down in the confusion over the reasons for my existence swirling through the way things-might-have-been or should-be, or is this the simple moment to be grateful for body and mind that I have?

I think it is really important to even be asking that question, perhaps more important right now than having any answers.

Stay warm, my friends.