am i a hermit

and there is only

You

for my cell-block

only You

neath the logs

 of this hut

where love's nostalgia

homes?

i weep wet-down

the face of my flesh

longlingly

as Hovhaness' horn

lures

the swarthy Black

of Solomon's song

he pines for her

his love

his dove

am i his cell

his prayer

his Black

his horn

and You

his Home?

do i pine for You

shepherd 

and Lord?

*Every place one settles in has what one needs and don't want.

*We all can speak as if we're innocent yet we all are guilty.

*Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.

  -Martin Luther King, jr.

*Try again.  Fail again. Fail better.

  -Samuel Beckett 

*A reflection of Jean Sulivan:

-...it must be repeated, the memory of Jesus can be merely a glance behind, sincere veneration of a past that we see ourselves reintroducing into a life sprinkled with pious thoughts and symbolic acts.  But we will always go through the disappointment and disillusionment of Golgotha and the ascension.  To remember is to experience him as alive here and now in the unknown and to laugh at learned theories about the empty tomb, the appearances, and all that archaeological material with which people distract themselves; it means coming out in the open and creating a new relationship. Because as soon as that happens, it relativizes all the ideas, old and new, that we have or thought we had.