The Note

This particular evening, when everyone else was watching TV or playing board games, Sammy sat alone in the study hall. Behind him on the wall was a famous picture of Napoleon's cavalry charging at Waterloo. The brave men did not yet know that disaster lay just ahead of them--an unseen sunken road. He liked this painting because of the dashing uniforms, but also because it reminded him of a harsh reality of life. Those who went happily running forward almost always ended up in the ditch.

Open before him on the long brown study table was the C-D volume of the World Book Encyclopedia. Just to the right lay the Doré illustrated Harvard Classics edition of Dante's Divine Commedy. In the encyclopedia, Sammy studied the map of Dante's world, which included hell, purgatory, and paradise. From time to time he cross referenced the map with the illustrations in the book, because the poem itself was a little beyond him. In this activity, Sammy felt like any world explorer. What he saw and experienced in his mind was equal to any traveller in the so called real world.

He loved to work out puzzles, whether of cardboard cut-out or the word games in the daily paper. But most of all he enjoyed puzzle from life, or mysteries as he called them. This evening, the mystery that he focused on was: where was his beloved grandfather? He just knew that with the facts in hand, he could work it out logically. A strange new confidence filled him ever since last Sunday when he had returned from his walk. The other boys hadn't noticed any change, but Mrs. Rosso did. "Why, I think little Sammy might be in love, " she sighed to herself, quickly adding, "I had better keep an eye on that."

Sammy began to work through the facts as he knew them. His grandfather had been a Christian, so he would not have been cast into hell. But he had never been a church-goer, so that ruled out a direct trip to paradise. Ah! That left purgatory! Sammy paged through the illustrations of prugatory as he read the descriptions of its various levels. The only question now was on which one of these would his grandfather be?

After twenty minutes of intense study, he slumped back in the chair with a sigh. It was , after all, a dificult task for one so young. And was everyone in purgatory really naked? It would be very embarrassing to se his grandfather that way, though he had seen his grandmother many times when he had helped her bathe. He shuddered as the memory clouded his mind...there was something just too wierd about that. Naked bodies! Why wouldn't God want people to keep their clothes on? He felt most protected in his clothing and his "gear" after all.

Then Sammy remembered the note in his pocket. Somehow, she had found him that afternoon as he poked among the thin stand of trees down the hill toward the bus stop. She had put her finger to her lips and quickly approached him to pass the note. Her eyes said it all: "Sorry, can't stay." And just as quickly, she was gone. Sammy hadn't yet found the courage to open the note, but he was confident that he would read it before bed-time.

Ostara Moon

on any night
when the veil
between the now
and times long past
becomes so thin
that we may conjure
in the moonlight
selves long past
to stand before us
once again--
let us be kind
and understand
they did their best
with what they had.
let them run free
in the heaven
of their choosing

At the Cross-roads

His memory~~~

Little Sammy...that is what his grandmother and everyone else called him. Today he stared at the brown, drab, metal-framed bed, where he had carefully laid out his 'gear'--a German helmet from the Paoli Army/Navy Store, a cardboard breast-plate, and a broken hockey stick studded with beads. Sammy lifted the stick--no, it was a sword, his sword! Suddenly changing his mind, he threw it back onto the bed. Turning quickly, he grabbed a canvas satchel, stuffed his well-worn copy of The Return of the King inside, and made his way downstairs.

He really wanted to avoid people. It was a game he played in his head each weekend. If he could make it through the woods, past the orchard, and down to the Great Hall, then he 'won.' If he didn't make it...well, then he was 'killed in battle." What did that really mean, though? He never thought about that, especially since they had found his grandmother in her apartment...

The path was familiar: out from the Boy's Home, a huge granite building dating from the 1920s, and up through the woods, following trails blazed by several generations of orphaned boys. Under some of these trees he had placed 'gods' that he had carved out of bits of broken fence salvaged from a construction site. To invoke their protection, he only had to nod briefly in their general direction.

The road then curved around to the west. As usual on a Sunday, it was empty of traffic. If he had been wearing his 'gear,' Sammy would have been in the woods, walking parallel to the road, striking down the 'jaggers' and 'May apples' in his path. Further back in the woods was an old saw mill, where he sometimes stopped to read or have a snack. Today he went straight on, past the abandoned reservoir and several homes--normal people-houses, not granite monoliths.

When he reached the Fruit Market, Sammy had choices. Most weekends he just continued left, down the valley to the Grand Hall. But sometimes he took the right-hand path to the Cemetery  One way that he never took lay straight ahead on to the west, off the grounds.

And was today to be any different? He had no 'gear'--not even his sword. His grandmother, who had been his anchor in this world was gone. What should he do? Well, why not go forward! Why not, indeed! Sammy--feeling little no longer--ran along the road, through the cross-roads, passing a barrier long established in his mind. Briefly he felt happy beyond his imaginings---briefly he could forget!


Then, he stopped dead in his tracks. Somebody was there! Under an apple tree--blonde hair--a girl reading a book. If he continued, she would see him and he would 'lose' his game. He turned quickly to flee back the way he had come. Crack! He stepped on a dry branch. What to do? What to do? Should he run?

Then a voice--a pleasant warm welcoming voice, came drifting over the smell of apples and summer sunlight, "Sammy...Sammy, is that you?"


Her memory~~


The sound in the chapel was so clear and soft today...I was still
humming on my way back to the girls home to pack my stuff for a warm
day among the animals and trees. I quickly went to the kitchen and
found what I needed in the well stocked kitchen. Ran up the 3 flights
to my room,  grabbed a sweater and threw off my dress shoes for some
sandals. What book today?...."little woman", I can be Joe with her
brave self,
    out the back door past the kitchen, past the tennis court, up the
little forest towards my destination...the road was warm so I stayed
to the trees, I know a lot of the other kids will be swimming today. I
love being with them, but today I feel a little bit of the old
feelings, the fear my mother gave me, like something might happen to
ruin all I have here. I usually like being alone when I have that old
fear. I feel safer that way... I take time to slow down taking in the
beauty of this place,  I feel the sun wash away the fear and dance
along the road....singing easy..."my cup runneth over with love"
I imagine the older folks smiling at me either love my spirit, or
think I'm a little crazy...just past the hospital now. I reach into my
pocket and take out the small bag of M&M's, I remember making sure
they were all blue, then only as they melt in my mouth can I fly
towards the trees...over the road, past the farm stand and on to my
happy cows. I love to watch them with there young, such peaceful
creatures.
The trees are full and shady, I fall upon the road and walk deep into
them so I am less seen from the road.
My sweater over my shoulder I rest back and begin to read.... "Jo.
It's so boyish!" "That's why I do it.""I detest rude, unladylike
girls!"...I was just dozing off, book falling in my lap, when I heard
it...
     SNAP...the sound of a branch under foot, but who's foot?
Ooo It's Sammy...I always thought he seemed so sweet. not at all pushy
like the other boys...I call to him "Sammy...Sammy, is that you?"
I drop my book and sweater as I stand to greet him, I see I caught him
by surprise, I smile to let him know it's ok. I love his helmet and
armor....I always envisioned myself as a lost princess...and somehow
he looked like the one to find me and save me, remind me I am worthy
and special, like any good princess lost. I walk toward him, I see his
hesitation, but my invitation to join me for lunch seems to warm him.
We walk silently to the tree I left my things under. We are invisible
again among the trees. He and I share my bag, enough for us both as
we eat cheese apples, pickles and crackers....He tells me of his quest
to be unseen, I tell him of my singing along the road, we confess a
charm has been cast, I feel like he is now safe for me, so I tell him
of my M&M's...smiling he laughs and we sit for a long time sharing
stories.
I feel so close now to Sammy. I want to be closer...it is so warm out,
can I be brave, I want to be. So I do it, I lean in and kiss him
feeling his warm mouth. Sweet lips pressed gently against my own...am
I dreaming? Is this real?
We stand, look into each others eyes and I ask him to promise to keep
my secrets, I promise to be his lookout as he tries his "game" to be
unseen, secret words are passed, we smile at each other glad to have a
comrade.
I hug him close to me feeling the pressure of my budding breast
against his chestplate...I kiss him deeper, feeling at once his own
passion...I open my mouth to his, we are young and explore the power
of a kiss.
Sweet Sam...how I never knew he was the one. I laugh at the sweetness
of his kiss and dance among the trees, my summer dress flowing around
me....peace in the orchard...
Offering him my M&M's we get ready to sail towards the forest...my
friend, my love....my trust. hold my heart it is fragile...but ready
to be shared. I will be your lookout and always love you for who you
are. Shield and helmet ready to protect....

as i stand waiting

as i stand waiting waiting at the window wonder watching westward as the slowly setting sun leads my soul in darkness down along at last to those deep down down to silent spirits waiting waiting for the warm red ichor running fast too fast it seeps down down to raise the shadow shades of lives now lost to them along at last a loss so full and wrenching wrecking mending mournful years at last not lost no waiting waiting comes at last the one who at the edge of center stands the heart once healing loss alone he comes no waiting now my eyes are met by dim and dusty shade of aeons melting past away to then at last appear before me as my father...

Wordstream II

Over in my place the place where i have been put there has now been time for thought and time to process the stream of life that flows through and around and beyond past me into the shadowed future but here now my thoughts conspire to examine all the more than i can see and jump they do from star to star around the cosmos galaxy universe membrane dimensional field as they attempt to process all potential phenomena in that which does exist or exists not yet or existed once but now so long forgotten and lost that i begin to seek the energy more and more to reach the full potential of what must be so up and up we soar again to follow the ancient metaphor of the religious ones the seekers who have in the past defied the bonds of their kin and place to see beyond the all and tear through the membrane the walls of night the very bonds of physical reality that pretend to tie us here to place and time but then upreaching at last i come to the marvel world of light and life the phos and zoe of those gnostic minds who saw before to all of this yet could not say in a distinctive way that could not be mocked by those in power but now o yes i have arrives to claim the strength to feel the light of wonder love and true untruth that lies beyond for all who seek it there in that place which is no place where all began so long ago to form through its energy then released to brightly expand and show the all which we can only see in shadow form just now.

Wordstream I

Well aloft aloft i float suddenly as if my weight has fallen all away and at last along the way of life i can soar free of all earthly dross and societal constraints imposed on me by gods and ancestors so long age that most have forgotten how they ever came to be but they are o yes they are and they are here with us every day as we walk in the mud and the rain ahh now yes not today for me because i have escaped for this brief moment and soared up to the lofty heavens where only the gods have been allowed to dwell along with the holy ones of earth that we humans have elevated but why o why just those and why not others for to limit is to control and for my brief moment i do so want to feel the freedom of the weightless clouds and look as i choose down to see those dear friends i cherish and say to them come, o please come along with me to the golden gates of this paradise eden wonder space, a magic circle where we can all meet as spirits who are truly able to commune with one another and freely give the empathetic love and life support that we all so feel the lack of in our daily lives upon the surface of that often cold, wet and dark planet out of which our bodies formed to live but a brief span of life and then to plunge away into what o what we cannot say for sure but our hope remains as the substance of our dream that we will then at last be able to float freely on the wonderous places that our imagination shows us.