In this organizational quest, I ran across something that I wrote nearly 2 years ago. Scribbled on a half sheet of paper, one half once carrying a Diet Coke coupon and the other side a printed out listing of Delta flights to Boston via Fort Walton Beach. This is old stuff. I clearly remember writing this poem as I sat on the steps of Park Street Church, at the crossroads of this pedestrian city. I remember the sounds, the people, and that I looked at Beacon Hill apartments that day. I wrote as I waited to be picked up by Stacey to have dinner with her, Anne, Doug, Shelley, Emily (and Pete) at Doug's place in Somerville.
About 3 lifetimes have passed since that day. I moved to Quincy. I was a big boss at the May Institute--then quit. Rebekah died. Brian and Kim moved to Tennessee, then Texas, then Alabama. Jess quit being friends with me. I moved to Somerville. My car's air conditioner quit working.
Through it all, the amazing and beautiful part is that what I wrote on this jagged scrap paper still remains true for me. So, for feng shui's sake, this poem is written here for myself and posterity. My prayer is that this is still my heartbeat in 2, 10, 25, 50 more years.
7/2/05Small piece of paper
Asian girls stare
Church on Park St corner
Parents teach children about the
red Brick way of history amid honks,
bums, and a dancing Metallica reject
My city who needs Jesus, loves the Sox
more than Him
Holy one of Israel made famous
across the way one fall--
preached boldly everywhere 200 years ago
Lord, take it over
True believers long after you rather than
The Barbarian Way
Abandon for worldly things replaces faith
Come Lord Jesus,
take over this place
Hear the bells and know the tune in your