When We're Away

When I think of what you hold
is it only wine and wheat?
Will this Mystery please unfold
and my hungry heart entreat?

Could all the days of your life,
when you walked this land,
put an end to all my strife
and set themselves in my hand?

All my friends and all your souls
safely swim in holy wine.
God who loves, God who consoles,
You gave me all I thought was mine.

Friends go away and rarely meet
scattered way too far:
crushed grapes and ground wheat
offered upon an altar.

I come to take this bread and wine,
I make my way to You,
You took all I thought was mine:
O Lord, take me too.

The Political Aisle

We're interested in what's right.
You can have whatever's left.

A Word On Time

My word embraces the silence as a drop holds the sea.

            A drop and the sea are thoroughly water: the only difference is time.  

One day a drop will fall and be held by the sea, 

which is nothing but the largest drop 

who receives its dancing brothers on its dimpled face.

            A word is born out of the same silence to which it will return.  

A word is silence through and through, though there is a difference of time.  

In time a word is a moving silence, 

dancing from mouth to ear, mind to mind, heart to heart. 

Then what is 

time? 

Eternity swallows every single moment 

while eternity is carried in every moment. 

            Rather than being a lost and lonely sister to the Past and the Future, 

the Present is their Mother who holds both so close to her breast.  

The Past bemoans her suffering and the Future confides her anxieties.  

The Past recounts her joys while the Future shares her hopes.  

In it all, the Present has selflessly receded to 

more lovingly listen to both her daughters. 

            She is that blink of an eye that embraces everything in sight.