Scrap of Paper

Moving into a new place for me doesn't necessarily mean that I cleared out the old stuff sufficiently. That reality has been borne out by the 4 random cardboard boxes lurking in the corner of my room. Inhabiting those boxes are hair cut magazines, my old Florida license plate, many, many cable wires and extension cords, and other sundry items. My goal today is to clear all that stuff out, or at least fit the stuff that doesn't go anywhere into the smallest box.

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.

7/2/05

Small 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
statusmoneysexdrugsalcoholfamepridelovefamilyhouses

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
hearts