Imprints

I picked up

The fossil and turned it

In my hand.

To most

A lump of rock, devoid

Of form and substance yet

Mysterious in its own way and in its own time.

The lines from

Living footprints staining a

Portrait on canvases of stone weathered

And rewarded by thousands of years of dirty work.

I wondered about

My imprints—those I withstand and

Those I create.

Are they lasting and do they profess

That heat and pressure form the man and make us a work of art?

I am amazed at the

Beauty of the shapes that grace its

Beaten and tired surface.

Yet it smiles from across time and

Triumph as it proves that many

Treasures can come from

A deep and dark and

Pressured

Place.

A Glimpse

I. I see that potential man in the distance

A mirage of what I want to be

Will I approach it?

Will I see it?

Will I touch it?

II. I have a story to tell

A story of love, of loss, and of second chances

That story has a beginning
That story has an in between

That story has an ending

III. It’s not true that everything that has been said has been said

There is always more to say

Can I reach that potential?

Can I make the dream become real?

Can I fit myself into that mold?

IV: I have two choices: to push forward or draw back

Either choice is scary and demanding

This time will pass

This season in my life will take me somewhere

This life is what I always wanted

V. It is scary to finally see your potential

Like a superhero whose powers begin to take form

Will I use them for good?

Will I use them for evil?

Will I use them to change my world?

VI. I finally see that man emerging from his shell

Although it seems late, maybe it is right on time

The choices are in front of me

The future will proceed in its unstoppable pace

The prize is there for the taking

Time to reach out and claim the destiny that is mine.

The Bitter and the Sweet

     Unexpected
Loneliness hits you out of the blue; when you least expect it.
It makes no sense to feel alone in a crowd or even a full house…
When you long to feel nothing and even wish for pain and blood
To break the monotony of the numbness.

      Inextinguishable

Maybe loneliness is not loneliness at all.

Maybe it’s a yearning for something deeper…for something more;
Or fear hiding in shadows and begging for us to tame it as it
Cries in a corner and waits for the world to spin around again.

      Inexcusable

It hurts from deep inside but lingering guilt draws it back…

Hides it from those around you as well as yourself.
Loneliness is company to anger; the darkness pushes you to feel something.
Yet how can you feel nothing when the shadow of emptiness is laughing

            at you in the mirror?

      Unexplainable

We color it with busyness and searching for collectibles to fill the empty spaces

But matter fills us all--we have no control over the filling or the emptiness.
All we can do is hold out hope for the souring emotions to pass like a salty wave
As we wait for refreshing to sooth the burning wounds like a salve.

Loneliness is not loneliness at all.

It is so much more.

The Sameness of Home

Faded memories and fading neighborhoods; every tree and leaf appears to never have moved.

People changing yet staying the same; immobile yet moving forward into their unknown requiem.

Every step brings back a memory; every road and rustling wind reminds me of my distant past.

How can this body have aged yet this neighborhood seems to eternally hold on for dear life?

The roads are renewed and paved; the cracks shifted as the weather pounds them into shape.

Like the memories that are paved over with new ones, sometimes enriched and other times a new block fitting into the same round hole.

Yet I long to come back here…breathe the unique air…drive the streets that lead me to that old house.

When I go I take a piece of it with me to the big city.

But, like a mesmerized zombie, the old town eventually draws me back to face my former realities.

The new and old compete for my attention, yet they both win

I am left to contemplate the meaning of that confusing draw that leads me back to the sameness of home.

I DO NOT Want Fries with That! A Case for Listening

Last year, I was in one of my diet phases so I stopped at the neighborhood Whataburger. I know you are thinking Whataburger and diet should not be in the same sentence, but bear with me. I decided to eat a tad more healthy by not ordering the fries, which I knew would cut out quite a few calories. I made that explicit to the worker when I ordered. It was a busy day and the drive-through seemed to go on forever but I was patient, my mouth watering for that juicy cheeseburger. When I arrived at the window I had to sit another 5 minutes, but the food finally made its way to me. As she handed me the bag, the employee was apologetic as she gave me the order. Nestled in the bottom of the bag was a large order of fries. I told her I didn’t order fries and with a smile she said “Oh it took so long I gave you those for free.” I just stared at her and blinked, wanting to say something but not wanting to appear ungrateful or rude. It was not a big deal, but I am sure I ate at least half of the fries since they were within reach since I have no self-control. But the point is this: I DO NOT want fries with that!

A similar situation happened in early 2016. I was trying to find a place where I was not distracted to get some work done (which is nearly impossible) so I happened upon the local Starbucks and bought a hot tea. They did not have the flavor I wanted so I just said, “I’ll take Black Tea.” I waited patiently as they searched for teabags. I heard the workers quietly say something to each other about being out, but I dismissed it. A few minutes later, I received my steaming cup of hot tea and lifted the lid to add sugar and cream, when I noticed a strange color, smell, and taste. It tasted like they went outside and pulled up a handful of grass and tossed it in to steep. You guessed it: Green Tea. I did not want to be one of “those people” that complained about their orders, so I just called him over and told him it was not Black Tea. He looked down in the cup and said “Oh, we were out of Black so we gave you Green.” Inside my head I was screaming “In what universe is Green Tea a replacement for Black Tea?” On the outside, I just stared and blinked in disbelief like I did at Whataburger and said, “Umm, I’ll just take Early Grey.” My point is obvious: I DO NOT want Green Tea!

There is a lot of talking going on these days, but very little listening. I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I do have many questions:

* Can you be against Black Lives Matter in principle, but listen to what they have to say and try to understand why they feel like they do not matter?

* Can you be in support of the 2^nd Amendment, but still be appalled at what people do to others when guns are easily available and be disgusted by this epidemic of violence?

* Can you be in favor of traditional marriage and its sanctity, but still cry with LGBTQ people that have been ridiculed, feel like they have nowhere to belong, or have considered suicide?

* Can you stand on the principles of your political party, but still listen to the other side, at least exploring the possibility that most are well-meaning, red-blooded Americans like you that just have a different view of what makes America tick?

* Can you support police officers and all that they do to help their communities, but realize that there are too many instances of deadly violence toward people of color to dismiss the reality that some police officers are blinded by racism? 

As I said many times, I do not have all the answers. But I know the truth lies somewhere in between the two extremes. Too many times we try to give people what we think they need, not what they have asked for. This is not about liberal or conservative, Democratic or Republican, right-wing or left-wing. This is a matter of treating others like human beings with value. Listening is not optional any more—lives are at stake.

What most people want more than anything else is to be heard. This does not mean listening to them as they say their peace, yet ready to strike back with your vehement appeal and convictions firmly entrenched when they are done speaking. Just listening with those who need to be heard, crying with those who need to shed tears, and holding the hand of someone who feels no one is on their side.

Until we learn to listen and see through the eyes of others, America will never truly be great.