Right of the brain

For a friend

2008-08-20T08:32:00.000-07:00

Knowing each other’s
needs
desires
failings

being together
walking away
allowing for change

friends

Storms come
and go
walking on
is all that matters

walking together
or apart
going the same
direction

Walking away with loss

2008-08-20T08:31:00.001-07:00

Leaving something you love
is hard
It disturbs emotions
at the surface
the superficial ripples of
A soul
swelling
wrenched by
A tear
is only
the topside of
a tsunami
made by
doubt

My "not at home" message

2008-06-13T10:33:00.000-07:00

I heard the rhododendron call
it's essence pulled me
like the tendrils of a memory
a long lost, dearly remembered
friend

So, I responded to the call

Now, my days are filled with birdsong,
punctuated by the rhythm of my beating heart
smoky air draws down on the mountain passes
as humming birds beat their way
to the same fragrant essence
that pulled me here

I will return (Lord willing) in late May
after the redbuds whither

Afternoon in the sun

2008-06-06T06:06:00.000-07:00

Shades of green, yellow, gold
contrast the silver-blue of
Lake Champlain
Insects encircle
my head, my hands
looking for an
easy meal, not death

The clover at my feet
sends up a
sweet aroma of
sugar-pollen
white to the eye
life to the bee

I rise to leave
but will remember this
place fondly
despite the sound of
cars

Clear cut

2008-06-05T06:56:00.002-07:00

Sun-baked dust rises at every step
Life is gone
Cut down
Torn up
Life ripped from life
Fiber by fiber
I have never seen desolation before
Never experienced such carnage

Carcasses of a once proud forest
Now, a litter of after-life
Nothing grows here
We have destroyed it all
For particle board
My soul cries out
My tears soon follow

One vista leads to another
The carpet is now black
Bleached-bone toothpicks dot the land
Life fractured by fire
Green shoots of new beginnings
Are everywhere

Scars will heal
Life will emerge
From death

Afternoon man

2008-06-05T06:56:00.001-07:00

Purple shorts
knee length
burgundy briefcase
for his lunchbox
shark hat
support socks
on one leg

He smiles
As he works

Again
As he meets
the bosses’ daughter
a pink blush
clashes
with the shorts
but defines

The afternoon man.

Walking away

2008-06-05T06:55:00.002-07:00

Leaving something you love
is hard
It disturbs emotions
at the surface
the superficial ripples of
A soul
swelling
wrenched by
A tear
is only
the topside of
a tsunami
made by
doubt

Knobstone in spring

2008-06-05T06:55:00.001-07:00

Naked rose bushes devoid of both flowers and leaves
Scratch my legs and arms
Their thorns from a summer gone-by
Stubbornly reaching for my attention

Sweat blossoms from winter dormant pores
Across my chest, face, and arms
Creating streams, rivulets, and torrents
Washing clean the crevasses of inactivity

My addiction to Oxygen grows more evident
With each step upward
Stairways ascending steep hills
Crisscross the Indiana backcountry

Hints of newborn green
Like fragrance brushing the eyes
With scents of color, painting
anew this black and white and brown world.

The first migratory birds have arrived
Praising the end of winter
Finding mates, building homes
As I pass by alone

Slowing down

2008-06-05T06:54:00.000-07:00

Most of life’s thinking moments seem to be getting quieter. Although at first glance this statement may seem a bit oxymoronic in the context of the ever increasing pace of modern life. It now seems that many of the corners of my existence which used to be filled with activity are now paced only by the gentle beating of my own heart.

I noticed the change most profoundly on the first day of school this fall. My habit, born of years with a long commute, is to rise from bed very early, exercise, and then pursue wakefulness with a cup of coffee and our local paper. Although I teach at the University and my first classes do not start until ten, I still maintain this habit as a form of self imposed penance for all the years wasted sleeping until the crack of noon. As I sat at the kitchen bar in my usual semi-conscious state sipping my drink offering to the gods of Starbucks I was reminded of the fact that this was the first day of school for my children.

For some reason I am always a bit nostalgic at times like this (ok, I get nostalgic during hallmark commercials) and I began to reminisce about the many first days of school experienced by my kids. Kelsea, our oldest, faced school with a wave and a smile that brought tears to her mother’s face as we dropped her off for the first day of kindergarten. Not to be outdone, her brother never even looked back at us as he bravely faced the unknown rigors of colors, letters, and counting. But I don’t remember the emotion of these days in the same way that my wife does; I am reminded instead of all of the stress involved in preparing those brave little children for that first fateful day of school. There were baths, followed by some yelling, a tantrum, and a mild argument about which pair of Osh-kosh-by-gosh would make the best first impression. This was followed by the immediate “hurry-up or you’ll miss the bus” warnings that fell on selectively deaf ears.

But things are noticeably different in the house now. Kelsea and Mason have their own alarm clocks in their own rooms, filled with their own clothes and music making gizmo’s. This morning, all I can hear from the bedrooms above me are the gentle tones of whatever rap group Mason is playing on his headphones. The really weird thing is that I know they have both already showered, and they are now decking themselves out in whatever it was that they bought with their mother on the “back-to-school” shopping sprees of the last few days.

All while I drink coffee and read the paper!

Within minutes of each other, both of these wonderful pseudoadults are bouncing down the stairs looking for enough physical sustenance to make it to hot lunch and square pizza. Again, they do not need me to do anything! Each finds the cereal, bowls of appropriate size, milk and other various utensils and condiments. They make quick work of it, pausing long enough to wave good-bye to dad, before they are off to the road for a morning chat with friends and a raucous bus ride to school.

Moments later their mother, my wife, appears and causally asks me if the kids are down yet? Down? Their gone!

To be sure, not every morning is quite like this one but they are beginning to add up with stunning regularity. It makes me wonder if these small steps of independence are God’s way of letting me know that soon, my life will be full of quiet moments and I will be left to contemplate the investments I have made in the lives of those who have now passed me by. Is this middle-aged reflection nothing but the first tremor of the beginning of old age? If it is, I like it… at least so far.

A day in the life...

2008-06-05T06:53:00.000-07:00

Coffee
Deepest black
Oozing essential essence that
Dilates then constricts blood flow
Spreading the well-being
From nose to lips
Tongue to toes
Ready now
Start the day

Scroll
Click
Soft click depressions
E-mail tyranny
SPAM!
Moments of life fly by
Preparing to speak
Organized thoughts
In precise step-by-step
Procedure

Enter the room
From the back
Always
Unzip the file
Turn on the projector
Early questions
Timid freshmen
Gentle answers of encouragement

On a roll
Scattered laughter brings a smile
Plenty of time
Story time – illustrate the point
Get back to the point
What was the point?
Ah yes…
Out of time!

Where is the meeting?
Who will be there?
I need what?
Got it
Change the rules
Protect the turf
Work the Network!

Lunch
More Coffee
Jokes shared
Stories told
“I heard that…”
“Well I heard…”

In the lab
Each student needs personal time
Hours of dedication result in
Increased light
Comprehension in once blurred eyes
Even more coffee
Speeds the process

Shades of crimson orange
Blue
Purple and grey
Paint the western sky in
Flecks of day-long memories
It’s time for decaf