Mining our hearts

It is tempting to grab an idea from the Internet on how to live a Holy Lent. I catch myself saying What a good idea. I'll do that!

So many good ideas 

On how to live

A Holy Lent;

So many good ideas

Yet the best one

For me

For you

Must be mined

From the heart.

So tempting

To refrain from meat

When one is already

A vegetarian;

So tempting

To give up chocolate

When one does not have

A sweet tooth;

So tempting

To proclaim to the world

Our holiness

When really

We have barely begun

To walk that path.

We have each

Barely begun.                                

So many good ideas

Yet we must each

Mine our own hearts.

Pit orchestra

Twice

I was in

The pit orchestra

For Man of La Mancha.

My hands remember

The fingering

The rhythm

(Almost flamenco)

For the guitar part.

High school

And college productions.

So long ago.

My hands remember.

When I close my eyes

I remember

The sheet music,

Stored in another part

Of my brain.

I think of Dulcinea,

The street woman

Rescued as a maiden

In distress,

A street woman seen

As a damsel.

She saw possibility

And love

In Quixote’s eyes.

My hands remember

The guitar part for

Little Bird, Little bird,

In the cinnamon tree.

The only time I sat

On stage.

My hands remember.

My heart remembers.

It might have been

Yesterday.

Gold leaves

More steps in gold leaves.

I wake and wonder

What next steps

I shall take,

What next steps

I shall put off

For now.

I know

They will come later.

I am on the road

To Oz.

Gold leaves

Cover the front walk.

My companions are often

Unlikely.

I am on the road

To Somewhere.

Gold leaves

Blanket the front walk

And yes

The back yard

As well.

Which door

Shall I use?

My companions offer

Different possibilities.

They search

For brains

For courage

For heart.

Gold leaves show us

The way.

We

All of us

Search for Home.

Exponential

Some days it feels like my heart grows, like the Grinch, at least three sizes. Sometimes way more. It's not one thing that does it, but several, some things I can name, some not.

My heart grows,

Sometimes it feels

Exponentially.

I wonder where things

Will fit

With a bigger heart.

I wonder

When I sit in back at church

See baby faces smiling backward

Check the restless children

Feel the Spirit move

Watch everyone raise an arm in blessing

Myself included,

Hold the hand of my beloved

As we pray the Lord’s Prayer.

Exponentially

My heart grows.

I wonder where things will go

From here.

Oh my God

Children... they come and go, and come again.

Oh my God

When the last one leaves

Or prepares to leave,

Or even

Practices leaving,

The heart follows

Each step away,

Cherishes each step

Home.

As much as when

The first one left

The heart followed

Each step away.

We still cherish

Each step home.

Oh my God

Yesterday we drove

By the turn we used to take

When she needed that ride

To high school.

Oh my God

She will be home

For the weekend,

Then will practice leaving

Again.

Oh my God

When the last one leaves

When the first one leaves

The heart follows.

The dreams were grateful

Holy Saturday.  One of my favorite days of the year.  Love covers a multitude of sins.  Peter reminds us of this in the liturgy this morning.  Jesus is out emptying hell, even my private hell, even your private hell, breaking open hearts.  Jesus is out covering a multitude of sins.

The dreams were grateful 

I slept in 

This morning.

They supplied interesting things

To keep me in bed,

Add an hour or two

To the usual eight or nine.

The morning is bright

With sun.

Jesus is out

Harrowing Hell

Opening hearts to possibilities

Unknown

Unforeseen

Up until now.

The dreams were grateful

To add more sleep

To the picture.

Now my heart considers

The possibilities

For the rest of the day

And beyond.