Winding Down

Winding down,

At the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains,

In the shadow of lavender’s haze,

Wrapped in consolation. . .

We lift our gaze,

To the rivers running down. 

Reflection of strength and of praise

We release another day.

Winding down,

At the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains,

In the shadow of lavender’s haze,

Wrapped in consolation. . .

We lift our gaze,

And we kiss the stars above, 

Reaching for more than we see,

We will reach infinity.

-Janey Pease

One Scene, So Much to See

So curious.

                 I see pretty much the same scene

each morning  nuanced by seasons

that know what they know about being what

they are in their allotted time given.

And yet

            what arrives day after day

from inside me causes me to pause

and feel how contemplation done -- even

half-assed as I do it -- reveals,

enters into

                  "the thing itself"

in ways I can only follow never

lead nor want to replying 

to "Follow me" with "Yes."

Which begs

                   the question, "How long can this last?"

and I hear, "Forever is just a short 

time for now." and think I feel a smile,

see the silhouette of a bow.

-Byron Hoot

Photograph by Greg Clary

Photograph by Greg Clary 2020

Good Friday

The name of this Friday

and the acts of this day once

upon a time is a paradox --

how is this Friday called Good?

False accusations, the condemnation,

the mockery, the beatings,

the crown of thorns, cross carried,

the crowd now cursing him.

Judas hangs from a tree.

Peter shamed into despair,

Magdalene and his mother

stunned beyond their understanding

and his silence, not defiant

but complete, unnerves everything

until he asks the question 

all who love him hold -- "My God,

why have You forsaken me?"

And the sky splits,

the veil in the Temple tears,

the separation between heaven

and earth -- as in him -- no more.

Among the words forgotten 

are "Follow me."

                       This is what 

not many care to grasp;

the cost of claiming who you are

is paid in this way.

The greatest sin not spoken

of is the denial of who

you are -- live the way he did

and there are guaranteed 

crucifixions. 

                 That's right

crucifixions because there

are multiple resurrections

in a life lived the right way --

to live this life we must die

and rise again.

                     That's why this

Friday is called Good --

it takes us to where we've never been.

-Byron Hoot

What Once Was Never Was

"Get the bacon, Jake?"

I ask at breakfast.

"Yep," he says.

I had not seen him

step behind me --

so much for the omnipotence 

of the father.

        The Heart or That Thing Called Love

I listen to my heart and restrain

my mind knowing the kinds

of problems an unrestrained mind

can create

                  preferring an unrestrained

heart

        trusting instinctively its knowledge

over the logics and arguments  the mind

presents indifferent to honesty or lies

running wild because it can while

pretending not to.

                          The heart is a mystery

and the mind is a problem --

I've lived in more mysteries

than problems:

                        problems I want to solve,

                        mysteries to get lost in

because being found in some mystery

is better than solving a problem.

Don't get me wrong -- I love to solve a problem

but not as much as getting lost and getting found.

-Byron Hoot