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Came of age in the sixties and seventies, then jumped headlong into the mainstream; to varying degrees, been discombobulated ever since. Mainstream is too dense, prefer life closer to an edge. Thank God for caring friends, two great kids, and the emergence of the grandones.....Writing has been one of my enduring dreams, though all too seldom written and only occasionally published. Poetry, short stories, love letters, activist policy, news reports, columns, op eds, features, an unpublished science fiction and a non-fiction book about the spiritual journey, also unpublished.....Emerging out of my disheveled past is a mission of awareness assembled from the accumulation of disparate, idiosyncratic clues to the purpose of self as instrument of perception and love, love and perception, that has and is gradually and progressively stripping me of the desire for stuff: an ode to imaginative simplicity.....Urban, which was an entertaining salve when it was as easy to get out as get in, is now my regular diet. My letting go dropped me softly on the streets where I camped in shadows and doorways for a few months, writing in any space that was open and at least moderately private. As I am moved forward, I find myself being carried to a more intent and intensive release of the written word. Creation and Creator seem to be using me to add something to the human landscape, something relevant and irreverent, although not so irreverent as to be ineffective.Since letting go of the truck, my access to the wilderness has been muted. If not for trails into the wild, I would be less human, certainly less sane.
Life is a maze; the maze is the map.
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O lord, our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, wrihting in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with their little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sport of the sunflames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it – for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the source of love, and Who s the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen. ....Mark Twain
PRAYER FOR PEACE
Blessed are the PEACEMAKERS, for they shall be known as the Children of God. But I say to you that hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To those who strike you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from those who take away your cloak, do not withhold your coat as well. Give to everyone who begs from you, and of those who take away your goods, do not ask them again. And as you wish that others would do to you, so do to them....biblical Jesus of Nazareth
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