Saxophone Meditation

Imagine You have
entered a
concert hall,
and the Musicians
are tuning Their
instruments.

It’s a cacophony
of hums and pitches,
bows buzzing strings,
tremolos trailing
across cascades of
brassy belltones.

You sit quietly
in a corner and
begin to settle
into the Sounds,

silently stepping
Your Way
through them,
until You are
enticed by a single
tenor saxophone.

You spot
The Player,
leaning forward,
swaying a little,
hugging the
slow dance of
Leonard Cohen’s
“Hallelujah.

You close Your eyes
into darkness and
wrap Your Self around
every note,
until it’s
All You Hear.

Are You
finally, finally
learning to
Meditate?

(Photo by Gracious Adebeyo; UnSplash)

 

The Gift

I coveted
the Gifts
I saw in
Other Souls.

Some can dance
until roses
burst forth
at Their feet.

Some can paint
with brush strokes
that come alive
and wrap themselves
around Our eyes
with naked skin
that awakens
the Holiest of
Desires.

Some can play
Their instruments
with fingers
so full of Divine
Fire
Our ears
become stars
that light
Our Hearts
into a Cosmos
of Love that
leaves Us
breathless.

Then The Giver of
such Gifts
asked Me this:

Why do You covet
What You already have?

I’ve made Words
just for You.

Use these Words
to Ask Your
fellow Beings:

Have You opened
The Gift made
just for You?

(Photo by Kira Aufderheide; Unsplash)

 

Jesus Likes His Coffee Strong

I imagined Jesus
showing up
at my front door,
expecting to join me
for a cup of coffee.

He claims I
invited him over,
but I don’t recall it.

So, I close the novel
I’m reading –
he notes the title and
says, “Yeah,
that’s a good one,” –

and I fill my 
second-favorite cup
and set it
in front of him,

the one that says
“Live like it’s all
made out of heaven.”

Perfect.

He grins and says,
“It is, you know,”
and holds up a palm.
We high five.

I apologize for
how strong I’ve
made the coffee,
but he flashes
another grin and says,
“It’s made out of heaven.”

He seems to have
a bit of something
caught in his teeth,
but I can’t bear
to tell him.

We talk politics –
he insists even that
is covered by the
Coffee Cup Rule –
and I am
speechless.

We cover sports
and the weather
and movies and sex.

If I get agitated he
points to The Cup.

After an hour or so
he takes his leave.

He gives me
a shoulder hug and
calls me “Bro” and
off he goes.

I have a new
favorite Coffee Cup.

(Photo by Jon Tyson; UnSplash)