Category Archives: Uncategorized

Word Sketch: Cormac

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I like the name Cormac. Me too. It has the sound of bark to it, tree bark. Tree bark. Yes like oak I think. There’s power in it. Color too. Sometimes color, but not always, sometime the color of void. Voids have color, don’t you think? I do actually think that yes. You mean nothing right saying void? Yes. Nothing. Total absence which is itself is a fullness. And fullness has color? Yes. Like the name Cormac.

Agreed.
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All In One

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My hands in the earth and of the earth. Dark moist dampness hosting rocks large and small roots I understand and roots I don’t but I know we are
all in one.

I am entirely reachable and entirely unreachable
all in one.

I am of the earth world weary of the more than one too many near me who dip their wings invitingly with feigned loving hearts of pallid stone I know now they are nothing
all in one.

It is the words for me it is in the words. On this page and others. Their stark landscape sometimes with mountains cresting in the distance casting darkness falling over the nape of their neck the travelers drifting into the darkness there in the cold of it and in the warmth of it
all in one.

My hands and words now back in the earth shifting and churning seeds planted in the hope of growth luscious seedling moments burst the surface in orchestrated unison all in one.

There now the warm hands holding the soft brush of human cheek to human cheek, my lips gentle on the breast over a heart beating warm light the cresting new day brings the healing sweep of sun and skin to skin embrace
all in one.
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MY FATHER AND OTHER MIRACLES

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The only wrong my father ever did me, albeit unknowingly, was to give me the impression that it was always safe to be me when someone loved me. As a child there was no way I could have known that my relationship with my father was the exception, not the norm. There was no way I could have known that my relationship with my father was, in a very real way, a miracle.

We are all offered miracles in life, if we have the courage to stay open to them and welcome them into lives. I know there have been times over the years when I think I may have encountered a miracle and it turns out I’m wrong. I am not afraid of being wrong. I am afraid of being closed to the possibility of miracles. I can’t allow that to happen. I am too committed to remaining open to the miracles of the heart life offers to me, and, I believe, to everyone.

There may even be a little miracle coming into my life now. Maybe for you too.

Stay open, stay brave – miracles are worth it. Promise.
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OUT OF THE REACH OF WORDS

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Her face is out of the reach of words. Gently sculpted, luminous eyes, Michelangelo mouth, all out of the reach of words, at least my words. They cannot get near the depth of her look, the substance there that makes me want to go deeper, learn more, breathe in all that is there.


Like a little boy I look away, then quickly look back because I want to make sure that what I have seen is real and not a mirage. Her miracle face is still there and now I wonder if maybe I’m dreaming so I try and shake myself from sleep, but nothing happens because I am not asleep. I am awake.


If I am awake and her face is still before me then maybe I have died and now I am in heaven. Then I see the phone bill on my writing table and in an instant know I have not died and I am not in heaven because, while I may not be the brightest man on the planet, I know there are no phone bills in heaven.


So this earthly face before me is real. And I see, and smile, and remember to breathe…and am warmed by gratitude and set down my pen because I know I cannot come close. But I can remember to breathe – and smile – and breathe again.

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FOR ME TO SEE

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I have been having
Dare to dream moments
And wonder should I
In some way have
My head examined

There is the soft
Embrace of morning quiet
When the mind clarity
And heart thinks
Maybe dreams of old

Still come true maybe
With sun rising still
And sweet peace mornings
Mist blooms then leaves
The earth for me to see
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