MAGIC

The young boy said, “I don’t believe in magic…

I’ve never felt the thrill.”

The old man smiled as he squeezed his wife’s hand…

“One day, son, you will.”

THEY CAME TO ENTERTAIN US

They came to entertain us…high school students from St. Augustine

They came to dance…and I have to say their dancing was anything but routine.

And they were beautiful, these students, they came in all shapes and kinds

most of them were deaf…and a few of them were blind.

I saw the joy upon their face…never once did I see fear

as they danced…and performed together…to music they could not hear.

I love to experience moments when my consciousness expands

like watching students who couldn’t hear…dance…while singing with their hands.

I love Spanish, French and Italian…romance languages not to be missed

but I wonder…is it possible to add sign language to that list.

Spanish, French and Italian are pleasing to the ears…which comes as no surprise 

but signing is the only language that’s pleasing to the eyes.

There was a point in their performance when one of the students just by chance

put his two hands out in front of me and invited me to dance…

I could hear the music playing…I even knew the song

so I threw off my inhibitions and happily went along.

I forgot, however, I have no rhythm…the best I can do is prance

but the young deaf boy was patient and he showed me how to dance.

And though he didn’t improve my rhythm…he got me dancing to the beat

and I discovered the joy of music wasn’t in my ears or the joy of dancing in my feet.

As I tried to follow his movements…as I tried desperately to keep pace

I found the joy in me that moment could be found upon my face….

We all enter this world with certain limitations as well as certain gifts

And as I sat back down in my chair it made me wonder if…

The purest joy of life…as these students so easily express

Is to never take for granted the wonders we possess.

BEAUTY AND THE BEHOLDER

While our friend and neighbor is spending a week away

we’ve been sitting her dog Angus…and walking him every day.

He and I awaken early…before the sun comes up

and when he sees me getting ready…he greets me like a pup.

My understanding of beauty is personal…I know what’s beautiful to me

but on our morning walks I’ve come to realize…we see the world differently.

While I find beauty in the moon, in the stars, in how the clouds move in the breeze

Angus finds his beauty in the the grass, in the bushes…in the trees.

Every now and then we pause together…you will find us standing there

enjoying the beauty of the jasmine as its aroma fills the air.

We may linger a moment and listen…to what sounds the morning brings

how the trees will whistle in the wind…how the night owl or mockingbird sings.

And though we briefly share this beauty…the aromas and the sounds

I still find most of my beauty in the heavens…while his is mostly on the ground.

Our relationship is symbiotic…Angus, the dog, and I

for when he stops to sniff the ground…I stop to view the sky.

Perhaps that’s why we’re both excited as we’re heading out the door

anticipating some beauty we’ve not seen or smelled before…

I used to think beauty was in the eye of the beholder…as that old saying goes

but Angus has happily shown me…

beauty

 is also in the nose.

THEIR BEAUTY

Neither he

nor she

thought of themself as beautiful

so it came as a surprise

when they finally saw their beauty

reflected in each other’s eyes

BOWLING NEVER GETS OLD

I once played high school football…I even wrestled on their mat

but I was never a first class athlete…and I am comfortable with that.

My exploits in both fields will never be well known

but when it came to sports in general…I like to think I held my own.

Which is why when Deborah suggested we go bowling…

when she initially planted the seed

I thought, I’m coordinated enough at 66, and enthusiastically agreed.

And despite the fact we hadn’t been bowling since 1989

I thought, given my confidence and physical ability, I was going to shine.

I know I’m not as strong as I used to be, but after tying up my shoes

most balls were much too heavy…so I chose one the children use.

“Isn’t that ball a little light?” Deborah asked, (what was that a psyche?)

I ignored her veiled rebuke and concentrated on my strike.

My feet were planted, I lined it up and was mystified and appalled

when my first roll of my first frame became a gutter ball.

My confidence was quickly waning

I wondered: Is this what the bowling Gods have wrought?

“I think you want to knock the pins down?” Deborah smirked

as I lined up my second shot.

It seemed my brain and arms were at odds with one another

they weren’t working together at all

and when I rolled my second shot…

another gutter ball.

I improved and was eventually satisfied with my result…

although I found it hard to gauge.

Is it golf or is it bowling where it’s good to score your age?

No matter…I got a little better as each game did unfold

and here is what I learned the more and more we bowled:

I may not be the greatest athlete…no crowds…no adulation

but I still can have a lot of fun…once I accept my limitations.

And when Deborah asked, “Will we be back?” I said, “Of course we would.

We may never be great bowlers…but we make these shoes look good!”

WHEN SOMEONE WE KNOW DIES

There is no cure for the sorrow we feel

(It’s one reason that we cry)

no antidote for the pain

when someone we know dies.

We immediately wonder why her…why now…

how we would have loved just one more day

one more moment…

one more memory

when someone we know passes away…

Our mind flashes back to certain moments…

wonderful memories we linger on

as the joy we feel for having known her

mixes with the sadness that she’s gone.

Our memory happily jumps back and forth.

We give thanks she was ever sent to us

and we hope and pray she understood

everything she ever meant to us.

We couldn’t have created a better friend

If we had planted seeds ourselves then grown her

and we know our lives will never be the same

and we are better people…having known her.

So we are content to grieve a moment…

knowing in our hearts she wouldn’t mind…

knowing the sadness we feel today

will acquiesce to the joy she left behind…

Yes, today we’ll allow sorrow to envelop us

we’ll linger in our tears a while

knowing in the future

every time we think of her

with every memory…

we’ll smile.

THOUGHTS ON A SUNSET

Yesterday while watching the sun set

I thought how nature is so beautiful…

and yet

I find myself hesitant…afraid

at the world before me man has made

At all the horrible things we’re doing

At all the bitterness and hatred brewing

As the sun descended this thought entered my mind

There is a way to make the world kind?

And though this may be hard for some to swallow

I believe it depends on who we follow.

What if at sunset…when today is done

We stop following fools with power…fools with guns

And when we awake to a new sunrise

We follow only leaders whom we think are wise.

So at future sunsets we’ll just enjoy the view

Like, I believe, we were meant to do.

THE AMBULANCE IS ON ITS WAY

We all heard the siren while on the road that day.

We all immediately slowed down…pulled off the road

there was an ambulance on the way.

And I thought to myself:

it isn’t likely 

the person hurt…

is any one we knew

but how wonderful 

everyone instinctively 

allowed the ambulance to go through.

We had no way of knowing if the person hurt

was black 

or white, 

if they were 

a muslim, 

a jew 

or gay.

We only knew someone was in trouble 

and there was an ambulance on the way.

And I wondered:

if we knew the person hurt 

was black

or white, 

if we knew they were gay

a muslim, 

or a jew 

would that have changed the way some of us reacted…

would we have still allowed the ambulance through? 

And it made me long for a world where we don’t care 

if a person 

is black 

or white, 

where we don’t care 

if they are a muslim, 

a jew 

or gay

A world where we treated everyone 

as if

the ambulance was on its way.

GRANDPA'S CHAIR

GRANDPA’S CHAIR

One day as we visited Grandpa and saw him sitting there

we thought it was probably the right time to buy him a new chair.

He’s sat in that one forever…when he moves around…it creaks

the cushions are uneven…and one arm rest is weak.

The stitching barely holds together…not much if it remains

and where Grandpa loves to lay his head…is permanently stained.

It’s time for a new one, we all thought, and we were so excited

knowing Grandpa was going to love it…knowing he would be delighted.

But it didn’t go quite as we expected…I guess our thinking was a little out of whack

because when he presented it to Grandpa…he said, “Thanks…but take it back.”

Then Grandpa smiled at the lot of us…and after letting out a sigh

sat back in his old chair and explained his reasons why.

This is the chair I was sitting in when you all first came to visit me.

This is where I held each one of you…where I bounced you on my knee.

This is where we watched TV together…where I put you on my lap

where after a day of playing whatever game you wanted…we’d sit down and take a nap.

This is where I’ve sat each Christmas watching the magic taking place

From here I’ve watched you all grow up…with a smile on my face 

From here I’ve smiled at your grandma…and wondered how she found a way

as we have both grown older…to look more beautiful every day…

Grandpa went on for a long time…(as Grandpa often would)

and well before he finished…we all understood.

So the next day we sat his new chair by the road with gentleness and care…

FREE, the note read, 

with one condition…

it must become a Grandpa chair.

HOW COULD HE HAVE KNOWN

While writing the story of his life

when he reached the part where his heart needed mending

how could he have ever known 

she would come along

and write his happy ending.

That she would create his joy

his comfort

would compose his music 

and his laughter

and the rest of the story would write itself

as

happily ever after.

BEING HUMAN

There are places in this world where seldom a day goes by 

where someone doesn’t weep.

Where the night rings out in gunshots…

and no one 

ever 

soundly sleeps.

Where, if you look and listen closely 

no children can be found

because where they used to play and run and laugh 

is now a battleground.

There are people in this world…

too many to count its sad to say

Who, if they don’t hear a bomb go off in 24 hours…

they say it’s a good day.

There are people living in constant fear…

who only want that fear to cease

who have given up everything they own 

for a chance to live in peace.

Who have been forced to leave their land…

where their neighborhoods and schools were burned

leaving the only home they’ve ever known…

never knowing if they’ll return.

Who go on a harrowing journey…

wondering will they live…

will they be sold…

and if they survive this arduous odyssey…

not knowing what their future holds.

Have you ever thought about their plight?

How their life has been forcibly redesigned….

How whatever joy they feel at being given a new life

Is mixed with sadness for the life they left behind? 

There are people in the world…

who only want a chance to grow 

to learn

and to be free

Men 

and women 

and children….

human beings…

like you and me.

There are other human beings who for whatever reason, 

hatred, 

bigotry 

or fear

refuse to acknowledge these other humans…

who scream…

You are not welcome here!

Who ignore their pleas for help, 

their heartache 

and their pain…

which makes wonder 

when did being human…

become so inhumane?

THAT OLD CAR

I saw her as we were driving…she was rusty, dented…out of place

But even with weeds growing all around her I saw pride upon her face.

I wondered how she ended up here…what paths…what roads she took…

so we turned off of the highway to have a closer look.

The years had altered her appearance still I couldn’t help but stare

because even though a little weathered…there was still much beauty there.

Where have you been old girl I wondered as I gave her hood a feel.

What kind of adventures have you had?

Who once sat behind your wheel?

Perhaps you were some young boy or girl’s first car…when they were but a teen.

Oh, the fun you must have had…Oh, the places you have seen.

Perhaps you took a couple on their first date…in the winter cold or summer heat…

Perhaps they fell in love right here as they sat upon your seat.

I wonder did you drive them to their wedding?

Was it a beautiful day in May?

Were you cleaned and polished and shiny?

Did they decorate you that day?

Did you drive them to the hospital…ignoring stop lights in the early morn

the days they needed you most…the days their babies were all born.

Did their children play upon your seats?

On long trips did they sleep upon your seams?

Did you ever see them gazing out your windows and wonder what they dream?

Of course she did not answer me…but after helping her reminisce a while

I’m pretty sure as we walked away 

when I turned back…

she smiled.