Certain

Certain enough
To point the finger
To condemn
To hate
Certain enough to scream
With our eyes closed
We can’t hear anyone else

Intersection

Being a little late

He was a little quick

He looked in the mirror

But didn’t see anyone else

A murderous intersection

With no intent at all

The victim drove away

No liability

No responsibility

Looking Down

It never finished raining

But something was happening

The day the answer never came

A doorbell and a bird with a broken wing

A time for remembering

That to get this far was not without suffering

Or joy, relief and lesser miracles

If they can be written off in a minor key

I have not reached the top

But I can look down

And see the winding paths below

That I stumbled over not so long ago

Closed Door

Burn the boat before

Putting down anchor

Not losing doesn’t mean you win

Sometimes a door must shut

Before we decide to take to leave

But sometimes we have to close the door and walk away.

Renovation

-->

In the death of winter after the leaves fall

The cold wind scrapes at the bare walls

Dust, debris, of things that used to be something

And will be something else

When the wind becomes a pleasant balm in the heat

When we sit and talk

Of the death that set the path for the new

That to rebuild, we had to tear down.

Room - A Christmas Reflection

There was no room

Four beds - the modern need for privacy

Young mother birthing for all to see

Sprinklers tend perfect lawn

Cow waste on the ground

Two-car garage, two and a half baths

Nowhere to lay the baby down

Finished basement - wet bar

We expand and shrink all scope for the greater

The bigger we build - the more empty space.

Twenty Years Ago Today

As I think back on twenty years

I feel the absence of a measure

To weigh me up, to balance me out

So I probably got away with some things

There came a time I needed to shave

I bought a cheap razor that I didn't know how to use

There was an electric shaver in his left-behind debris

So that's the way I went

His passing was not terrible because of missed opportunities

The tragedy was that someone who had done so much could do no more

But there is the measure
Time flows like a river, he never let it pass him by.


P.J. McAndrew June 2, 1947 - November 14, 1991.

First Day

You will need me less after today

At least not in the same way as before

Some day you will be the one to lift me up

To drive me there, to help me fix it

To explain, to help me see

Growing as I fade away

I hope to help you on your course

There is no time to waste

For it's a short privilege that you are

My daughter, my son.

Fear

A clean page

A pictureless frame

An empty suitcase

No bridges burned

No lessons learned

Never say the wrong thing

Never say anything at all

Fear of looking a fool in the everyday

Is to throw it all away

Time

No time to waste

Days that never end

No time like the present

Days over before they begin

Chasing, ticking, counting

We do not set the pace

Too much or too little

No time to say goodbye

Summer Rain

Summer rain leaves little trace
Of endless torrents
That so soon before promised to wash the day away
I venture out in mindless complacency
Lacking wonder at the restoration
Hasn’t it always been this way?
A few scars of lingering puddles
Show the lie of my easy ways

Tomorrow

I build and break for you
I weep and pray for you
While today passes unloved

It’s easier today - a day of light
After the night of dark and rain
But that doesn’t change
The working out in the end

That sun follows rain
That joy follows pain
That there is no tomorrow without today.

Hope

I want you to remember it won’t always be like this
There is something else, another place
This life of lies sprouting slander
Reaping loss and decay
But we are not of this place

We travel through the loving and dying
Broken and bloodied
He made the way
Above the horizon
Flying as it all melts away
We see the first sun on the first day

The Race

A trapped animal in a cage
Driven rabid by what it can’t catch

I gnawed on the bone till I broke my teeth
Empty, burnt and tasteless

There is an empty meadow
A reason to live and love and remember

I see the beauty in your face
Of letting go of the chase

Free

The world drove past
As I looked you in the eye
I felt the wind in my hair
As I said good bye

Freedom is not free
But some things aren’t worth dying for
It's knowing the difference
Between vanity and responsibility

So I will walk away and leave you behind
I wish you well but you won’t understand
I will go home and kiss my wife
And let the waters rush over me
Submerge and rise free
To start again
A life rich in possibility.

Daughter

Twirling in pearls and cotton
Don't stop growing
But stay my little girl
Don't grow cold
But learn who to trust
Don't forget where you're from
But don't let that stop you getting there

Don't stop joking
But remember to live in this world
You need to dream of how it could be better.

Spring

Melting snow - there may be a future after all
Reveals a new but familiar world
This spring I feel changed
Ready not just to renew but to reap
Timeless seeds impervious to rain and sun
That You planted deep beneath
Waiting for me to recognize the change in season
And hang up my winter coat.

His Daddy's Glasses

He wants to be like his daddy
He wants to see like me
Does the world look different
Through his daddy's glasses?

Ladder

A race not for the winning, an end before a beginning

To get there from here, I built it day by day
Love, beauty, hate, war, buying, selling – all empty spinning

One step on the ladder and it rotted away

Even success turns bitter at the end

Plaudits and other trappings aside

Discovering the ladder is just pretend

You can't hide the broken pieces inside

Love, beauty become broken clawing at the young

How could the perfect touch this sordid earth?

We wrestle till we are overcome

But You gave the dying a second birth

Elevated

Standing at the top of the stairs
Stopped for a moment in infinity
How did I get there?
I climbed the steps as a child

But this is something more
A hand stretched out - a mind opened up
A glimpse of the beginning and the end
An anchor for stranger times

Touch wood.  Feel the earth under your feet
Return to the unfinished chore
The wonder of a suburban afternoon
Made higher and lower than before.