The Young Construction Worker

The young construction worker

asked the older construction worker,

“¿Al lado?”

 

Ah, I was jealous.

The young man,

just becoming a man,

young.

His honorable work.

He and the older man had a familiarity with each other.

There was a hierarchy

but the hierarchy itself

hinted at a deep and loving bond

larger than two men.

 

The young man was deferential and humble to the elder,

which did not indicate weakness

but rather made the youth more venerable and dignified.

It indicated his path,

rites along a definite road to maturity,

learning how to be part of something bigger than himself,

something alive but older than any living individual,

something that he is gradually taking responsibility for,

ensuring its patterns

of love and survival

will continue to be woven,

long after his body has dissolved.

 

The young man

looked so bright and hopeful,

earning a living,

maybe in love,

maybe excited to start a family,

 

a most precious piece contributed

from each of two ancient families,

who are now moving together,

gathering around as a new living shape is born

into the great mosaic,

lawfully shifting the sacred geometry

of family and eternity.

 

I was so happy for him but,

ah, I was so painfully jealous

as I walked past them

on my way home

alone.

Church

Earth,

most Holy Church of churches.

 

People pissing in the pews

Windows either broken out or boarded up

Cigarette butts stomped into the floor

And that pile of shit and garbage

that people started in the corner

is starting to spill all over the place.

 

Gah!!!

Don’t they know this is a FUCKING CHURCH?!

 

No, they really don’t.

Their ancestors knew

but now most have been trained

not to notice.

 

And soon enough we will all die

of deprivation, poison, sickness, and violence,

corpses strewn and piled,

quiet and still

in every room.

 

The church will go on standing

but what good is a church

if no one worships there anymore.

So Far From Your Feelings

How can you stand to live

so far

from your feelings?

 

All alone out there in the world.

 

You never visit.

You never call.

You never write.

When we call

you never answer.

 

I know you’re busy

but some things you have to make time for.

 

We miss you.

At this rate we’re going to become strangers!

Would you even recognize Joy if you were in the same room?

I hate to tell you

because I don’t want you to worry

but

you really ought to know.

Joy is very sick,

withering away almost to nothing.

 

But remember the twins, Loneliness and Resentment?

They’ve grown up so big since the last time you saw them!

You’d have to see them to believe it!

 

I understand that you had to move away for a while,

get some distance,

find yourself,

but it’s time to come home and give your feelings another chance.

You moved away so young,

you really only knew us through a child’s eyes.

But you’ve matured now and

you’ll see us in a whole new way.

 

Won’t you come home,

even just for a holiday,

and get reacquainted?

 

Don’t you want to hear everyone’s stories

and learn about where you came from?

 

It’s never too late to come back

but each day that passess without us

is time you’ll never get back.

 

And each day you’ll feel

the truth

that you do miss us painfully.

 

Love,

Your Feelings

 

I Want to Meet Your Light

I want to meet your light

right at the front

of your eyes,

bright,

unclouded,

shining from deep in your center

where the hearth crackles.

I want the light to meet me

right out front

and invite me inside,

unafraid.

You’ll know it’s safe

because my light will meet you there

at the doorsteps of our souls.

And you will see clearly

into me too.

And you’ll see that I don’t want

to take anything

or change anything

or condemn anything.

You’ll see that I just want to enjoy what’s in there, that

I just want to like you.

You’ll know it’s safe

because my eyes

will be warm and opened to you,

trusting that you too will move with care and mercy,

as you come through my world

to join me

at my fire.