Tall, swaying trees The wistful sound of leaves Rustling in the wind Nature’s playful whispering Soothing, sibilant declarations Of movement and memory I happily surrender myself To the even-flowing passage of time And the sacred stillness of life.
April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. ~ T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land It was chilly that morning. You woke up early and Ambled down the long, carpeted hallway And into the dusty back bedroom Where you lay down on … Continue reading The Third of April
Meditation on Ecclesiastes 3:1-15 I wrote this nearly four years ago, a few weeks before driving my daughter to college. Today she's no longer a child or even a teen, but a 21-year-old about to enter the real world of adult dreams and responsibilities. I suspect I'll have some new thoughts to write down as … Continue reading “For everything there is a season…”
Updated June 9, 2018, following news of the death by suicide of Anthony Bourdain If you’ve stumbled upon this note, then it’s because the algorithms or some other mysterious force in the universe brought you here. The topic isn’t going to be neat or comfortable. In fact, things might get quite jagged and painful. But if you … Continue reading Let’s Talk
Lay sermon delivered on June 27, 2010, at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Buffalo, NY “'I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.' And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God." ~ Exodus 3:6 “You will know them by … Continue reading Thoughts on a Sunday
In December of 1969, I was one of the first pediatric patients in the area to undergo successful open-heart surgery. Born with a congenital defect, I’d undergone closed-heart surgery when I was two months old. My doctor was a dashing Asiatic Indian man who seemed more king than physician. His dark skin, wavy hair, and stylish goatee sparked fantasies of white stallions and exotic lands. His warm eyes conveyed a gentle strength that dazzled and reassured me.
A loose collection of sundry ideas Poems yet to be written Stories still to be told Ideas not yet imagined Oh, that I could reach inside and Grab a handful of brilliance Toss it upward and outward Letting everything scatter And then neatly fall into place.
Whether you revere or revile her, Hillary Rodham Clinton is a force of nature in America’s intense political climate. The first First Lady to hold a post-graduate degree, she was also the first president’s wife to assume a high-profile role in shaping national policy through an ambitious—and some would say overzealous—healthcare initiative. More than a … Continue reading Chasing Hillary
Staring at the piles of garden tools, old paint cans, and dust-covered appliances that haven’t been used in decades, my mother and I are a bit daunted. The basement, the realtor tells us, is a good place to begin. But how do you begin to sort through forty-five years of living in a house that … Continue reading Forever Grateful
My Japanese mother was born ten years before the attack on Pearl Harbor. She met my American father during the 1950s, when he was stationed near Tokyo with the U.S. Army. After a whirlwind courtship, they married in 1955. Three years later, she traveled with him to Buffalo. My mother arrived in her new country, … Continue reading My Mother’s American Kitchen