Today’s Beach Walk Story

today i walked
for the first time in days
since our life was turned
to wet clay again and the
churning of change unveiled
herself like a bride waiting to
be kissed. I pursed my lips for
the umpteenth time and crawled
out of bed early the next morning
carrying my bags of cans and bottle
for the guy that sleeps in an ancient
camper where I park at the beach. felt
good to begin again my knee yelling but
still I went to the soft sand and took it all off
socks and new shoes like going into training
for walking strong so when I was done and walked
past my old coffee shop without stopping, bare feet
and all, the girl who needed a boost a few months back
spotted me and called me inside saying this is my last
day here her smile ablaze she has graduated and become
a message therapist and will work at a great spa in La Jolla
instead of yelling in anger at the new girls, transformed by the
love i took out of my pocket $100 with the key to the Universe with
which she has now unlocked her life she told me she could see the
image of the divine on her own face the only person who has tasted
our church funds and guarantee saying this is the touch of the divine
you are whole, the others have just disappeared from the street where I found them sleeping, but today the Universe gave me a peek of the life a seed of grace grows.

Advertisement

Another Morning Beach Walk Story

Early morning tourist
Season San Diego I
Sneak out carrying my
Backpack
Park in the dirty part
Of Pacific Beach that
Wakes up every morning
In summer reeking of beer
I am alert listening deeply

A new homeless woman
Sits on the cement spreading
Out all her treasure, her breasts
Splayed like a part of her midriff
Her graying hair tied in a knot
On top of her head like Pebbles in
The Flintstones, only more crazy

I walk among the growing crowds
Heading toward a part of the beach
I seldom walk anymore observing
On my way back, I pass
A young and innocent looking black kid
He looks very worried for a tourist
Next a little ways back, a large white guy, short hair
Ball cap a little askew but kind of military but not
He is alone and talking maybe into a phone
And then I see he has none
Something comes alert in me and I see
He is stalking the black kid and is the right age to be
A vet from one of our recent crazy making wars.
I listen to the love and truth written inside me
And turn and follow them. I pray as a way of seeing
I see the big white guy, divine in his being
the young scared kid, God’s own look-a-like
I follow calling down the pervasive lie
So often believed so void of Truth, that one of us is
Wrong is not One. I look away to the water for a second
When I turn back, my white guy is walking up a side street.
I panic because I don’t see the black kid. I search and hasten
My steps so I can follow and then I see him, taking off his shoes
Sitting on the wall surrounded by people and the
Guy following him has turned at that very point and gone away.
I am smiling now, aware of the power built into each of us to become who we really are.

To Pay the Price or Not, That Is the Question

On contemplating the Middle East and War

Morals are often mores
We build walls of supposedly sacred sanctions
Around our cultural prejudices

Sides are taken because thoughts
Encased in ancient feuds refuse the light
Of enlightenment and carry heavily armored
Tanks that fire guns and cannot see out beyond
A small periscope whose lenses are covered with
The filth of fear. I pray to be released from mine
To fall down before the sweet freedom of love and truth
To pull my zipper down even if it means my pants will fall
And everyone sees my nakedness, a very small price to pay for peace.