Not a deep sleep

I used to have a dream where
I had won first prize in a
church raffle: lunch with God

where, over, thin-crust pizza,
I could ask him three questions.
I always lead with an inquiry
about why he made humans

“The hyenas” sayeth God,
as the waitress pours more wine,
“said I didn’t a sense of humor.”
“Guess you showed them, huh?”
replyeth I, with a nod

In my dream, God then laughs
uproariously – looking, for just a
moment like my late uncle Paul
(without salad stuck in his teeth)

This is where the dream always
ends, leaving me to ponder; was
it just a lame dollar-a-ticket raffle,
or am I not much of a dreamer?

Cross training

Some think we’re simply running away
not believing that what we are running to
is something, someplace that needs us
just as much as we need it

Just the act of running moves you away
from something, towards something else

life is running; not living is sitting still

We are running away; running away
from a professionally futureless present
mired in the stagnant quicksand of the
material world’s indifference to belief

running to new challenges, opportunity
for the chance to really get into the game,
to make a difference in the lives of others

running to get even healthier spiritually

Not running away from people we love
but to carry their love with us to a place
often unloved or misjudged as unlovable

their love is the baton we carry to pass to
other runners, other racers, other races.

Yes, we are running away – not to get away
but to take the lead, hoping others follow.

Not a race to the finish, but a pursuit
to new beginnings.

Saturday morning

first light of day
bright silence rules

sun, fresh coffee
illuminate fleeting,
holy solemnity

First steaming mug
is communion, a
shared indulgence

professing to dog;
Rat-terrier, canine
father-confessor

What can I say?
We’re Protestants

Progression

The faith of middle age

bears little resemblance
to the spirituality of youth

what passed for insight
at twenty was a liturgical
hedonism of belief

The faith of my middle years
is more tangible, palpable,
believable, less explainable
but far more credible
to anyone bothering
to pay attention.

Pilgrim

I am a spiritual man
I believe

stuff.

I have read a lot, lived
a bunch, experienced
much, seen and did

things

Other people of different
places, peoples, cultures
old ways and fresh ideas.
have always piqued
my curiosity

Ideas of life, concepts of

God, the/a hereafter,
meanings of life, purposes
for existing.

Questions, asked
repeatedly, differently
answers given
vaguely, with a shrug
howling in defiance

Sometimes, the answers
actually matched the
questions being asked or
the puzzle being challenged

Sometimes

Why, how, why, why, why?
Why, you say?

always, still more why.

‘How’ always finishing a
distant, disinterested second.

I am a spiritual man.
I believe

stuff.

Who believes

me?

Be studious

When your faith
is tested
your belief doesn’t
get graded

but you do