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Sabbath Poem

Do I need to know,
I wondered - watching the smoke trail
away.
The more I thought,
the more I knew:
I did not
need
to know the news of the day,
the uprising
and job reports
and the progress with the talks with China.

Yes, it is a global world,
but today I did not care.

One of the disciplines I have is to read
brief meditations.
Yesterday, #2 asked me,
Where are you?
What time is it?
Meditation #2 told me,
the answer to the first is "here."
the answer to the second is "now."

So I let the need to know about the world's struggles and hopes disappear - dissipating like the smoke before my eyes.

Later today, I did a chore:
cut some wood to keep our home warm.
The tracks of deer and rabbit and dogs were all around,
but there was no life to speak of,
only the calm cool slow motion of winter,
the gray sky.

Yesterday, I saw three deer
up on a ridge. I watched them
for awhile,
until the trees on the other side
moaned their age.
I turned away,
I looked back,
they were gone.

And then you - my family - came with me.
To collect the wood.
You picked up the sticks and limbs
I had strained over,
the sawdust still heavy on my jeans.

You lost your glove,
son,
but your good
mother
walked back with you
while I went up the hill to the next stack.

My daughter
you lifted a stick to me, and said, "here, Dad."
the worker,
with blushed cheeks.
Wind smacked,
aglow.

Finished,
we bounced
and jostled
our way back home.

Again I think:
in two years,
I've been given so much.

The grace.
The grace.

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