The Arts section of Orient Lodge


Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit.
A new month starts,
with the leaves
and heat
of summer
as the seedlings grow larger.

Each new year,
each new month,
each new day
is a chance
to turn over a new leaf,
as the old leaves pile up
each fall
on our yards.

We rake these new leaves
into giant piles
and leap into them
as last gasps
of joy
before the winter comes.

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One True Love

You were the one
I wanted to catch
and be caught by
when playing
Marco Pool
at the town pool
water dripping down
your laughing face
and arms
but I didn’t see you.

You were the one
I wanted to chase
and be chased by
during those games of tag
in the playgrounds
of my childhood
but you weren’t there.

You were the one
I wanted to discover
and be discovered by
on those
summer trips
of adventure and learning
when I climbed on
the dinosaurs
in the park
at the museum
but you must have left
or not yet arrived.

Across the gym floor
at the junior high dances
where only the cool kids
actually danced
I looked for you
from the boys side
over to the girls side
hoping to see you
hoping to be seen by you
hoping to find the courage
to cross the floor
and ask for a dance
and hoping
you would say yes,
but junior high dances
were nearly universal

On prom night
I went to the local
pizza joint
hoping to see you
hoping you would want
to see me
as we sat with our friends
exiled from the prom.

When I was finally
out on my own
and heading to bars
after work
to drink and dance
with co-workers
you were the one
I scanned the crowd for
hoping for romance.

Years later
after we both had failed marriages
under our belts
you were the one
I tried to find
amidst the hundreds
if not thousands
of online personals.

our daughter
is going to
those junior high dances
and I hope
she’ll find her
one true love
after grad school
as we grow old

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It must be difficult,
he thought to himself
as he walked down the street
past the park
where he saw
chasing one another,
to have ones attention
to a single thought.

As he found himself
at the flecks of sunlight,
bright and shiny,
in the splashing water
of the fountain
he wondered
how those
too busy
to see
these jewels
managed to keep going.

He stepped up his pace
to that of a New Yorker
late for a meeting
at the young mother
who watched the world
through red rimmed eyes
and the old homeless man
whose hand
every so slightly
with each drink he took.

As he weaved
in and out
of the crowd
in his quickened pace
he wondered
how best
to address
the needs of underserved students
with ADHD,
the topic
of the coming meeting.

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Whom do you Worship?

to the General Conference
of the United Methodists
and following along
on social media
this week
before Trinity Sunday
I wonder
“Whom do you worship?”

the elephant in the room
is human sexuality
and like the elephant
described by blind men
it sounds very different
on which part of the body
they are touching.

What does our sexuality,
whatever our orientation
or identity may be,
separate us from?
Does it separate us
from God
from our church
from others
and is it our sexuality
or the reaction of others
that does the separating?

Can anything separate us
from the Love of God
which is in Christ Jesus?

Today as I listen
to the General Conference
I wonder,
“What do the delegates worship?”
The past?
The future?
Parliamentary procedures?
Tweets or Facebook posts?

How do we understand
The Trinity?
The Three in One?
Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer?
How do we understand
all love divine
and the peace that passes
all understanding?

How do we show that love
to those we find incompatible
or that find us incompatible?

Moral Decline

She longed for the days when
June Cleaver delivered moral lessons
to Beaver
when she wasn’t doing her needlepoint.

She knew that shopping was good for the economy
even though she didn’t like
the way her husband
paid attention
to some of the new car
with scantily dressed women.

She longed for the days when
the economy was strong
and the only threat
was the Godless Communists.

Now, it seemed, everything was Godless.

It was so much easier when
White boys in the suburbs would be boys
Black boys in the cities would be thugs,
and the girls who got in trouble
got what they deserved
and didn’t get abortions.

Now, it’s all mixed up
“Girls will be boys, and boys will be girls.”
and the President is black.

It was so much easier when
you could simply tell right from wrong.

Now, people are telling her
that she’s supposed to care
for people different from her.
What if someone
found her darkest secrets?

That’s not even safe,
is it?

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