April 26, 2020: Teenagers

Teenagers

The common consensus:  young people are trouble!

It’s like they live in their own little bubble.

It can be intense to be a teen:
New ideas; new feelings, but what do they mean?
As we attain to our own, we are caught in between

Being a child and yet almost grown.
Feeling protected, but being alone.
Needing our parents, but seeking our peers,
And the rights we demand can depend upon years.
What it means to be someone isn’t always so clear.

So a lot of adults won’t get involved
With kids when they have so much unresolved.

They’re scared to offer a new opportunity,
While the kids need a sense of continuity
From the nurture of home to the wider community.

We all need mentors as we seek our direction.
We all need the chance for those kinds of connections
That affirm the value of life as a whole,
Conceiving “employment” as a meaningful role,
Combining service and personal goal.

The fact is – young people are not all alike.
Some can be friends.  Some we won’t like.

Some into sports; some academic.
One likes his music, and wants to be a mechanic.
One must be serious, and another a comic.

Not just teens, but we all need to find
That which will open and focus the mind.
Some, though intelligent, don’t fit into school.
Some need more freedom.  Some need the rules.
Some work with people.  Some work with tools.

So it’s a challenge to find the right solution
To a teenager’s growth and contribution.

Where grownups may sometimes be stymied by doubt,
The young are more willing to try things out.
You can’t blame them for trying, but help show them a route
To put their passions into something constructive.
To wallow in guilt is self-destructive.
In one way or another, we’re all befuddled.
The world keeps changing, and if we stay in our bubble,
Whether young or aged, we’re all in trouble!

Each day is a chance to make a fresh start,

In recognition of our paths of the heart!

April 25, 2020: Life at the University

Life at The University

God is great and we’re repressed,
And we thank him for our tests.
To his account our dues are paid.
Give us, Lord, our daily grade.

Every week
The same students
Come to the same room
To hear the same professor
Talk on the same subject
He’s been teaching for years.
I come . . . I go . . .
Greet the friends I’d like to know and
Sit in my void of fears.
Who are we?
What do we mean
In this time and in this place?
“Potential.”
“What?”
“Do you have a moment to waste?”

April 24, 2020: Letter to Jesus, Parts 4 - 7

IV.

Jesus, tell me what it takes to find you:
Must I pass through a number of stages?
Must I leave my whole life behind for you?
Will I meet you working for wages?

Must I find myself dazed and forlorn –
Shell-shocked and shaking with fear,
Cursing the day I was born –
‘til you’d suddenly speak or appear?

Are you really a treasure to find?
What should I expect to see?
What transformation of mind,
Or what knowledge to set me free?

I’ve got to ask you, Mr. Jesus Christ,
Just what you think of a church
That points to your saving sacrifice
And stifles the desire to search?

Who are your real ilk;
Not just the ones you attract:
Are they them who drink you like mother’s milk,
Or those who can Hear and Act?

V.

To some, you’re a personal presence,
Wherein self-hood and Godhood find unity,
While the orthodox see your essence
Translated into their community.

The naturalist calls you a person.
Your devotee calls you divine.
Critics say you’re just a diversion.
Some say you’re a life-giving vine.

And many who have been estranged
Feel that only you are their friend,
Through you, their estrangements are changed,
Though it’s “by their faith” that they mend.

To thinkers, you are a teacher,
And to mystics, a state that is pure.
To the aimless, you come as a leader,
To show them a way that is sure.

VI.

You come like a droplet of rain
From a terrible storm overhead
So that the living may be sustained
While you raise the spiritually dead.

I envision you as a bubble
In the white-water flow of a river,
Rushing through pain and trouble,
But you are not for a moment bewildered.

You are the river of active devotion
Which carves through a mountain of stone,
Heading all the way to the ocean
Where believing becomes what is known.

VII.

I want to walk beside you, Jesus,
Down the road by the side of the hill,
And stop beneath some broad-leafed trees
To draw some water up from the well.

April 23, 2020: Letter to Jesus - Parts 1 - 3

Letter to Jesus

I

I want to walk beside you, Jesus,
Down the road by the side of the hill,
And sit beneath some broad-leafed trees
Beside an abandoned well.

I could sit for days and I’d listen
To stories from when you were young;
The way you discerned your life’s mission,
And the things you did for fun.

I’d like to hear of your sisters and brothers,
And the people you knew on your block.
Did you ever long for a lover?
Were you ever much of a jock?

Did you need to develop your powers?
Were there some things you had to learn?
How has your life become ours?
How do you expect to return?

I’d like to fish with you under the moon
On a row-boat without any cares,
And sing you my favorite tunes,
And kiss your face and hair . . .

II.

I’d ask about those you befriended
And your relationship to Paul,
Where you’ve been since the day you ascended,
And your connection to the God of us all.

I’d like to hear your version of history;
The lives of great leaders like you;
The meaning in human misery,
And how much we can know or do.

Did you never make any errors?
Do you think we could all be that strong?
Or, in this world of heartbreak and terror,
Is there anything “right” or “wrong”?

What do you think of those Gospel reports
And how would you put it today?
What do you think has been most distorted
About things you had to say?

How are your wisdom and kindness
Reflecting out to the earth?
How long must we live in our blindness?
When comes the promised re-birth?


III.

Do we remember you right as the hero
Who wore those painful thorns,
As you made it down to point zero,
Proclaiming the joy of the born –

Remember passing out the bread and wine
In honor of the Passover Miracle?
Did you make it holy, or was it blessed all the time?
Do you think of your Self as material?

And please come now and take me to task
With your version of heaven and hell!
I want to hear what questions you’d ask of me,
And I answer with what I can tell.

April 22, 2020: Please Come Home

Please Come Home

I said, “I’m running away, and that’s just what I’ll do!”

My mother said, “I want to run away too!”

But I said, as the sky turned to violet from blue,

“Let’s go home!”

Once, I was walking with my buddy to school

He said, “Let’s get out of this town with its stupid rules!”

But as we walked to the highway, like a couple of fools,

He said, “Let’s go home!”

Years later, I hiked along the interstate;

Took a different direction, ‘cause I can’t stand to wait,

While I picked up a new thought to contemplate:

“Please come home!”

Expanding my mind through the internet

Or a thousand channels on my TV set.

So much to take in; so much to forget,

Like “Please come home!”

I’ve tripped on all kinds of psychedelics,

While traveling the Amazon, looking for relics.

I’ve been everywhere, but how do I tell it?

Please come home!

I’ve always been up for any kind of a dare,

Walk down a trail where I think there’s a bear;

But follow that road to the electric chair?

Please come home!

I needed a job, so I jumped through some hoops;

Got tired of shoveling out chicken coops.

Then I joined the army, just to hang with the troops.

Please come home!

I became a scientist, who sought for solutions;

A bio-chemical contribution

Whose effects engage now, with our evolution.

Please come home!

I take my journey of transmigration

Which alters as I learn from each situation;

Each life-form a challenge and a consolation.

Please come home!

I was sleeping around and I got a disease.

It wasn’t that great; I was aiming to please.

Now I’m all alone, and I’m down on my knees.

Can I still come home?

I’m dizzy, and I can’t hardly stand on my feet

And there’s some kind of craziness out on the street.

Seems like days since my roommate went out to eat.

I say, “Please come home!”

Please.  Just  come  home!

My Mom was laid up in a hospital bed

With infections for which they could not find a med.

She said, “it’s just no good hanging on by a thread.

I want to go home!”

April 21, 2020: On the Street

On The Street

So many people, left out on the street.

Be more in these turbulent, rock-bottom days,

With angry eyes, smoky brains, tired feet;

Shiver in cold and thirst in the heat;

Lonely, ragged, skittish to meet,

And misunderstood in their ways.

Some folks you’ll find there are really lost:

Their thoughts floating ‘round and around,

With oceans of hope that they can’t swim across.

Some are too proud to submit to a boss,

Or in hiding, revelation’s too high of a cost,

And they’d rather stay close to the ground.

When you live in the jungle, you learn the ropes,

And you do what it takes to survive.

You might feel you’re a stranger.  You learn to cope.

You flow with the crazies, the cons, and the dope.

You jump through the hoops of the bringers of hope.

It’s rarely a place you can thrive.

But God keeps loving us all the same.

We’re all a part of one humanity.

We begin again, forgetting the blame.

We learn our lessons, releasing our shame,

And see our lives as a kind of a game:

That’s the way we hold on to our sanity!

Although some will be able to find their niche,

Knowing their friends and connections.

You can travel the world if you know how to hitch.

You can run with a gang.  You can be a snitch.

Beneath the radar, you can even get rich,

Or sustained under someone’s protection.

People come through, but not with reliance.

Everyone’s in so much flux.

Try taking control and you’ll meet with defiance.

Make an agreement.  You won’t find much compliance.

You can talk about politics; talk about science:

   Survival is really the crux!

But God keeps loving us all the same,

Despite all our posing and vanity.

We begin again, forgetting the blame.

We learn our lessons.  Releasing our shame,

And see our lives as a kind of a game:

But we never lose sight of reality!

There will arise movements to raise our condition,

And sustain a real counterculture;

Inspired projects for a common mission;

Real involvement and shared decision;

An organization unfolding a vision

That can’t be misused by a vulture!

But mostly, the dream remains a dream

While we all strive to be more aware

That people are more than what they may seem;

That there’s a thousand ways for a spirit to scream.

The Light is in us.  We can channel its beams,

Giving strength to know how to care.

And God keeps loving us all the same.

We’re all a part of that divinity.

We begin again, forgetting the blame.

We learn our lessons, releasing our shame,

And see our lives as a kind of a game

With endless possibility!