Archive | September, 2019

A Day In The Life Of A Sorcerer

17 Sep

A sorcerer’s life, in this day and time,
is not what it used to be.
I’ve razzled and dazzled and conjured up spells,
made an elephant swing from a tree by his tail:
what a marvelous thing to see!

The people applauded when smoke and quick hands
produced an illusion divine.
They brought me their wealth, paid me in gold,
hounded me daily and begged to be told
the secrets of my line.

I once was a god, but not anymore
since Peter and John came to town.
They’ve turned all the people against my routines
by showing a power beyond any seen.
My business has surely gone down.

Perhaps if I said I believed what they taught
they’d count me as one of their own.
Then I’d offer a deal they couldn’t refuse,
for some of their magic I’d happily choose
to join up, not go it alone.

What a team we would make as we captured the crowds
with sorcery, potions and spells.
Our wealth would increase, our fame widely spread;
we’d offer a franchise for those who felt led
to practice the art and the sell.

“Dear Peter, my friend, I’ve a question to pose
about the power you wield.
If I were to offer a dracma or two
would I be able to do what you do?
Can I get in on this deal?

“Hold on there, Peter.  You’ve no right to say
such arrogant things to me.
We’re both in the business of pleasing the crowd;
we both use our tricks and whatever’s allowed
for all the people to see.

“I’m bitter, you think?  Well, maybe that’s true;
I envy all that I see.
You seem so assured, incredibly strong,
while deep inside me there’s something so wrong.
Maybe the trick is on me.”

(Reflection on Acts 8)

Thank You Note

12 Sep

My Dear Friend,

What a remarkable gift I have received from you.
It is so infrequent that the gift given
matches so beautifully the need
of the moment.
Yours did.

The pathway for several months has been ill-defined,
so few signposts along the way.  My roadmap
blew away with the strong winds of
disappointment and doubt.  The
brilliant blue skies of the past
turned to muddy, gray
blankets of suffocation.
No rain.  No washing.
No relief.

It is so difficult to breathe in the darkest caverns of desperation.

And then you came to my door.  You smiled.
And as we sat in conversation, no, as we
sat in communion, I felt the first hint
of a breeze, the sweet smell of wet
meadow grass after a night
of spring rain.
You unwrapped the gift without
ritual or pretense.  You
blessed my weary soul
and my worried mind
as you placed the
offering before
me,
and I knew a Sacred Breath has passed
through the room.  Light began to
change from a resistant dullness
to warm, soft rays of sunshine.
How will I ever thank you
for this remarkable
gift?

You listened.
You heard my heart,
not just my words.
You responded to my spirit,
not  to the circumstances
of my despair.

You listened.

For that gift, I am ever grateful.

Most Sincerely,

 

Dilemma

10 Sep

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But the sea is so big
and I am so
small

I’ve never…
What if…

Do I dare?

 

 

28,510 And Counting

9 Sep

I’m betting that today will be the best day of all
28,510 days I have lived on the planet.
Something today will remind me to:
Deal gently with all who hurt
Say a kind word that is not expected
Create something with my hands or my brain
Offer a hand to someone who needs to hold on
Laugh
Love
Forgive
Hum a tune
Smile
Be genuine
I hope to look back from 28,511 and say
“Yes, sir.  That was the day.”
So far.

My Pal, Sal

6 Sep

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Meet my Portland pal, Sal.
So gentle, so calm, so docile.
So wrong.
Inside that fur is a calculating canine whose sole purpose
in life is to rid the earth of all edible substances.
It doesn’t even have to be food.

She almost burned the house down once when trying
to get to a slice of pizza on the kitchen stove.  Who
knew that a dog’s paw could turn the burner knob
to the “High” setting?
The firemen said “that is one determined dog”, especially
when Sal tried to lick the cutting board the firefighter had thrown
out into the back yard.  It was still burning.

Sal has big, pleading eyes.  Don’t all dogs?
She tries the famous “stare down” technique
at meal time.  I’m never quite sure if she’s
looking at me or the hamburger in my hand.
Sal is intense.  Do dogs blink?

So, here’s to  my pal, Sal.  May Beagle heaven be
made up of burgers and bagels. In the meantime,
if you’re ever in Portland and you see a bouncy,
little Beagle approaching,
don’t turn your back on your hotdog!

Ah, these wonderful animal
companions.  Don’t they make life sweet?
And expensive.

Warning! Strange Dog

4 Sep

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I thought about leaning over the fence to catch sight of this “strange” dog, but I thought better of it.  He is strange, you know!  And the sign clearly says: “Warning”.  Still, I would like to know how and why he is strange.  Does he walk on his front legs, or does he have four ears, or maybe he knows how to tap dance?

It does occur to me that the poor thing is labeled for life.  “There goes old Charlie’s dog…he’s strange.  That dog is mighty strange, too.”  I wonder what people in the neighborhood would think of Charlie’s dog if the word was changed to “unique” or “one-of-a-kind”, or even “special”?  What if strange, in this case, meant “exceptional”?  Old Charlie’s dog can recite the alphabet!

Well, I’ll never know because I took the “warning” part seriously and I didn’t have the backbone to discover the dog’s “strangeness.”  As I walked away from the sign on the wire fence, I thought to myself “Isn’t it a shame the way we label people these days.  WARNING! she’s strange because she speaks a funny language, or she doesn’t believe in my religion.  Her skin is so dark.”  I guess the next thing we’ll do is hang a warning sign about her neck so everyone can be suspicious.  Come to think of it, we did that once with a Star of David less than a century ago.

I’m going to believe that the dog behind the wire fence, the one I’m warned about because he strange, is, in fact, exceptional…of value and merits the same respect and care given to little “FooFoo”, the pampered Pekinese who lives next door.  Now, there’s a strange dog!

But, I suppose, in some ways, we’re all a little strange, aren’t we?

Take Me To The Water

2 Sep

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When I am tired, take me to the water.
Lay me down on warm sand
where I can rediscover the texture of who I am
from times before time.
Hold my hand as I feel the frothing
surf in mine, washing me,
embrace after embrace, with wisdom that
comes from the deepest places of creation.
I would become once again the embryonic
energy that emerges into the warm Sunlight
of the first day.
And when the Moon calls and reclaims all surf
to the sea, help me stand in sincere gratitude
as one washed in limitless love
and blessed for the
new journey.

Roger Pierce  September 2, 2019