Climbing

 It's always a give and take. Sometimes we provide a lap,sometimes a lap is provided. Community.

When I read poetry

I climb into

The perspective of others

Rest in its arms

Snuggle in its lap

Sit at its feet

Content for a moment.

This is how someone else

Sees things.

I stay there

Awhile

Until it’s right

To venture forth;

Open my arms;

Sit down so my lap

Is available;

So even my feet

Are inviting;

I wait.

I write.

Vocation haiku

We get stuck on the word vocation. We all have one at least. All vocation, all vocations, arise from community. All vocations are holy, wholly lived in community. Sometimes it is a community of two, often more. We are all helping one another discern vocation all the time. Sometimes we see it.

Vocation: we all

Have one at least but really

Several… if we look.

Community is vital

We slept in the morning.  It is start-up Sunday.  Balloons and the hot dog man and his wife between the 10:30 and 1:00 services.  If we'd planned far enough ahead, we might have attended the service at 8.  We didn't.  We pray with the birds outdoors, and the cicadas. 

We were going to go

To church this morning.

Community

In times like these,

Community

After all is said and done,

Is vital.

We were going

To go to church this morning

Instead we are home

Praying with the birds

Praying with the cat and turtle

Praying

Simply

Praying.

We think we will attend

Next week.

In times like these,

After all is said and done,

Community is vital.

More church dreams

This is the priest equivalent of not arriving prepared for the exam.  Even though I am not serving behind the altar these days, but rather, under the altar, counseling people one by one, I still have these dreams from time to time.  It seems years and years of a particular path, speaking a particular language, begs such things as church dreams like this one.  I wake up wondering if I will be invited to the picnic... the one everyone will attend.

Again I did not arrive

Prepared

For the job:

No alb

No sermon

Heck I didn*t even know

The proper lessons

For the day.

The outside sign said

They were now

In Palos Park.

Still I got there

By a back entrance

In cassock and surplice.

They said they*d figure out

Some sort of stole

To make me look official.

They always were nice

Like that.

I did not arrive prepared.

It took back road after back road

To get there.

Light attendance was promised.

There was a picnic scheduled

For the afternoon.

Everyone would attend

The picnic.

How do you do it?

I attended prayer group yesterday.  This was my first time with the group.  It was different from other prayer groups I have attended.  This prompted the beginning of today*s poem.  Then I thought about my family in a restaurant.  Usually we all order different things.  Sometimes the food is particularly good.  Sometimes it is particularly bad.  My beloved always wants to share his, and have a bite of mine.  Sometimes he says This is awful... want a bite?  Every family has its jokes.  This is one of ours.  Still, in the best spirit of sharing, it is best when it goes both ways.

I want to ask

How do you do it?

Truth be told:

I want to be asked

The same.

Usually I find the good questions

Go both ways.

They contain

The longing to know,

And

The yearning to be known.

I desire to share

What has been offered

On the plate

That is my life.

How do you do it?

Would you like to try

What I am having?

I*d appreciate

A sample

Of what*s on your plate.

It looks delicious.

Try a bite of mine.