Discovery

Two desserts

I have discovered

Once again

That we all are different

As much as

We all are the same;

Breathe the same air;

Settle for Brussels sprouts

Maybe broccoli;

Long for dessert

Maybe even

Two desserts

One right after

The other.

We all are different.

We all are the same.

We breathe.

We settle.

We long.

Yes

We long.

The way home

Ostensibly this is about leaving the creche on the front table for now. It's tempting to think that if the wise folk stay there, worshiping, nothing will change. Well, it doesn't work that way. Even when they take the same way home...even home is different.

The wise folk

Still gather at the manger.

Maybe they will never go home

By another way.

I contemplate leaving them

By the manger.

Still

Everyone must grow up.

Everyone must grow out.

Everyone must grow in.

Everyone must consider

Other ways home.

The walk home

By a different path

Means home

Won’t be the same

Either.

Heck

Even taking the same way home

Won’t be the same

Anyway.

Different parts of the world

I traveled to Santa Fe this past weekend to visit my sister.  We have some things in common.  We are sisters, after all. We are also very different.  We have separate roads to travel.  It was a good visit.

We pay attention

To different parts of the world

My sister and I

Exactly the same

Jesus told wonderful stories.  He hoped that we might hear.  He hoped and prayed that we might have ears to hear.

Once more,

Yet again,

The Gospel for the day

Is about counting,

How we count,

How Jesus counts.

Once more

Yet again

We hear everyone is paid

Exactly the same.

Comfort

More change.  I find comfort in some things which stay the same.

Next door

A woodpecker seeks bugs

On the neighbor’s garage

Tap

Tap

Tap

The cat commences

To tip his tail

In the sun,

Seemingly asleep,

He raises and lowers

One front paw.

Do cats dream

The way dogs do?

The windows are open today.

I take comfort

In some sameness

Even as the world entirely changes

Around me.

Now the cat

Is upside down,

The woodpecker gone,

A blue jay,

Familiar,

Distinctive color and call,

Arrives different

Yet somehow

The same.

Different and the same

Conversation with a close friend.  She says she is always three steps ahead of any therapist she has seen.  She says of course I am different.  I don't think so.  I really don't think so.

She says

No therapist

Has ever been able

To outthink her.

What’s the point of that?

I say

Why would you pay

For a therapist

To practice

Skirting around

Him or her?

She says of course

I’m different.

Of course

I’m different.

I have heard this before.

I will hear it again.

Of course

Really

Every therapist is different

And the same,

Just like every client

Is different

And the same.

Holy Week

Every year I think Holy Week will be different.  And it is.  And it's not.

I like to think

This week will be different.

It began with a pony.

Today I sit

In a different place,

Tomorrow yet another

Different place.

And so it goes.

Holy Week is always different

Yet somehow still

The same.

Seven years out

Of running Holy Week

(as if anyone ever runs

Holy Week)

Seven years out

Again I slip into

Holy Week mode.

It began this year

With a pony.

I know the story,

How the story goes.

I know the ending.

Thank God I know

How it ends.