Modernity or Post-Modernity?
We choose neither:
Not sharp certainty,
Nor dull doubt.
And if they press us
We choose silence
Because only when all is lost
Can we heed the rumor of creation.
Sunrise Light
The account of my quest to discover my mission in life.Peace is…
Driving to a see a play,
With friends,
Eating sunflower seeds,
While listening to Billy Collins’
Class-clown poetry.
It is a hot day,
And I can’t think
Of a better way to spend it.
Thoughts While Running
Do not think of your bed and your pillow now.
Do not think of that couch
And the comfortable mindlessness of your TV.
They hold no rest for you.
And do not dream of home,
Because you have no home.
“Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests,
But the son of man has no place to lay his head.”
You want comfort?
Then look in front of you
And run the race.
You want peace?
Then pick up your feet
And push your body
Until your heart breaks.
Or do you want to go home?
You will get your wish
Only when you make your home
In hell itself.
Then no man can take anything from you
And your peace will be everlasting.
At a coffee shop reading Seeds of Contemplation
I love these times: sitting in public with nothing in particular to do, stress-less, reading a book, listening to music. I said to Brett, “This songs sounds different here. I feel like I’ve never heard it before.” He nodded absently. His mind was elsewhere.
When driving to a coffee shop hitchhikers look more friendly, and helping out a stranded driver is easy:
I once passed you
Looking for a ride on a Sunday morning
On my way to Christ the King.
I was late.
I didn’t stop.
On my way to Java Jones you
Were stuck in the middle of the street
On a black night, car stalled,
Emergency lights on.
I rolled my window down
And interrupted your frustration.
You said you didn’t need help.
I told you to take care.
Sometimes I’ll take walks to relieve my mind and stretch my legs. With my iPod singing to me, the bright city streets become a playground for my eyes. The parking lots of the day are nighttime castles to explore. A dead end alley is a new challenge.
And then I’m back, back with my mocha in one hand my book in the other. Warm and comfortable in a red plushy chair. I’ve done my sightseeing. My mind has been stretched and rested, and I can get back to my coffee shop work.
Tahoe
I’m in a coffee shop in South Lake Tahoe City reading Dante’s Inferno and staring at the tall pine trees and beautiful, snow covered peaks.
At 8:45 am on Monday, March 31, Priscilla and I packed our stuff into my little Honda Civic and began our eight plus hour trip to Lake Tahoe for a week full of snow sports and relaxation. So many times this past year I have dreamt of a road trip. Sitting at my desk at work, I have longed for brown valleys and straight roads. Finally, my thirst for the highway was quenched. At least for a bit.
We passed a few interesting, almost poetic sights on the road. For example, there was an albino cow with orange spots in a dry and deserty ravine. On one sparsely populated highway we saw a tan, half-Native American looking hitchhiker taking a break from thumbing, gazing breathlessly at a huge, mustard-grass-covered hill. I felt like I was in Grapes of Wrath.
On Wednesday, I got an idea for a novel/novella. It’s about sex, but not in a tawdry sort of way. It’s more about sin and morality. In consequence, I drove 40 mins. yesterday to Carson City, NE, to pick up Dante’s Divine Comedy and Milton’s Paradise Lost.
I’m loving Inferno. I’m surprised I’m not having more trouble with it. I always had a tough time with epic poems in college.
I’ll tell you more about it later.
PS I know it’s Friday and that I haven’t excluded today, but I’m going to have to put it off until next week. I’m just in too good of a mood to ask anyone to leave today.
