Festival of the Five Senses

Seeing the unripened fruit of a persimmon tree 

on our walk brings back childhood memories of 

the Persimmon Festival in Mitchell, Indiana…

the smell of cinnamon and cigarette smoke

the thumping of kids running down a ramp

the pop of a balloon as a dart hits home and

the squeal that follows with a choice of toy

the shiny red glaze of apples-on-a-stick

the velcro sound of shoes on sticky streets

the calliope music winding through raindrops 

the subtle taste of persimmon ice cream

the bright lights on backdrops of black nights

…this full engagement of the five senses makes

for vivid memories of a time gone by when the 

world was smaller but also full of possibilities.

***

as a bird

 

If you see what I see

will you understand me?

It’s the hope of sharing

and the scope of caring.

It makes me feel free

as only a bird can be.

***

The Middle Way

 

The city was well behind us as we headed south on a lonely stretch of highway, cornfields stretching out into the distance, the sky a patchwork of clouds.  That’s when I saw the signs.

They were large and homemade with bright yellow backgrounds and irregular black letters, three in a row over a half mile stretch:

OLD FASHIONED 

TENT REVIVAL

SIGNS

WONDERS

MIRACLES

DENVIL CURRY

THE MAN WITH NO VOCAL CORDS

That last sign had a crudely painted red Youtube symbol on the bottom that indicated he could be found there.  I was intrigued by his name and my mind came up with the unfortunate  association of “Devil”.

A few miles later a more professional sign loomed large on a billboard “Lion’s Den Superstore”.  

What is it about rural areas that invites extremes?  Or are they actually two sides of the same coin: the exciting tent revival and a pornography emporium?  They both provide a kind of titillation and escape from the ho-hum and mundane, but on the most superficial of levels.  

I find it intriguing that you can find the idea of the “Middle Way” in ancient world religions.  I am most familiar with the ancient Christian teachings and practices of Eastern Orthodoxy.  I’ve heard it called the “Middle Way” or “Royal Path” which avoids excesses, ie,  things that feed the passions or our egos.  Unfortunately much of what passes as “Christian” in this day and age feeds both in vast quantities.  

Humility with love is the guiding light on this middle path and assists in avoiding stumbling or falling into the ditch of pride, self-centeredness, and self-delusion.

Ascend to Descend

 

Past the decorative niche of daring dreams

I wind up the spiraling stairs, spent in my soul.

Somewhere above sits a bed of unburdening

where oblivion awaits my arrival at day’s end.

***