Staring Absently Into Mirror

When I was about fourteen, I remember at times

Standing before bathroom mirror, staring

Intently, deep into my hazel eyes

Wondering what it would be like to be dead.

I thought perhaps if I looked far enough

I’d have some sense of future, tense

Enough my eyes would twitch, blink

Away all sense of self, learning absence

Of myself within this world, I’d know

Who I’d be or wouldn’t be without a body,

This form of flesh astonished by the irony

That death was nothing much to fear.

Little did I know the time would come

When working with the dying,

I’d fight off sleep and stay awake

To hold the hands as slowly they grew 

Cold as winter’s breath, only knowing

When dying they should not be alone.

At least a dozen times or more I’ve held

Those who slowly moved away,

Through that window toward Beyond.

And about twelve times I myself

Have nearly died, yet stayed within the lane.

One day I won’t look into mirror anymore,

Window open to the Blue Beyond,

Walk into Light that now seems veiled.

That day I pray I’ll make it Home, past

All kinds of permanence that now

I only imagine, absent mind’s imagination.

The Threshold

Before I go to bed
the darkness of the night
turns a gentle shade of gray,
announcing dawn an hour away.

I dip into the sheets
just as the wren’s first trembling
bursts forth in song
from trees across the road.

I am at a threshold,
between wakefulness and sleep,
darkness and the dawn,
the stillness and the song.

This is the time
when dew forms on grass
but does not fall,
lingering for the sun.

The waters of the lake are still,
its luminescence hidden in fog
that hugs the waterline
and shrouds the world in silence.

This is the time
when the spirit of reproach
yields to the spirit of blessing
and the dead are given voice to speak.

This is the time
of silent necessary prayer,
when prostrate before the face of God,
even angels begin to weep.

Not Discovered, but Revealed

Today, I yearn in midst of frantic life
Too filled with noise and stress—
Loud clamoring voices inside my mind
Leave me longing for solitude and silence.
Deep silence beyond borders—
A place full, rich, and immeasurable where
Proportion and perspective are restored.

Overhead a canopy of blue sky and racing clouds…
At night, purest darkness found on Earth…
Patiently awaiting glimmering stars
That bear witness more than any
Human words or songs can bring
To miracle of God’s enormous love.

No holy site in Jerusalem or Rome
Comes close to this remembered sanctuary
Where one is alone with deep silence
Found off among Western Isles of Scotland,
Eileach an Naoimh— rocky haven wrapped in
Silence as rough as wool. Upon this boulder,
These stones, this wide landscape of ocean
Where ever constant winds and gales…
Swells crash for the first time in
Thousands of miles to strike high cliffs—
Break upon an open heart.

There are no crowds of people,
No concessions for the hungry,
Where those who thirst
Are not satisfied by trifle of “religion”
But discover something deeper,
More elemental— where a Presence
Lives realized in fierce wind among
Ancestral stones and endless waves.
Here a hard blessing makes one vulnerable
To awareness that this foundational world of wind,
Stone, and water has no regard for us at all.

Alone, I am able to let go, relax in
Natural silence broken only by sounds that
Nature makes herself, would make in my absence,
Allowing me to feel One with all Creation.
All human endeavor is but folly when measured
Against this haven of holiness, sinking into hollow bones—
Deep Presence that waits in silence,
Not discovered but revealed in grandeur and stillness.