Little Blue Penguin

Poetry: Wading in

Why is it that when the bad news comes, I don't believe it the first time?

There was a man... he broke in ... he hurt me
How could this be?
You are going to get in so much trouble when the police find out you
made it up
Even when faced with the evidence: cut fan cord for binding your
hands and “evidence” I was sure it was a big mistake

What’s over the bookstore?
Apartments... why?
Well, the building is on fire.
I hung up the phone and drove. I was sure that you had gotten it wrong somehow.
It must be the building next door
Surely she is wrong
I rounded the corner: the front window blew out.
I realized how right she had been

Mom called: You’d better come home now
Racing. Over 100 miles an hour on the Mass Pike. Convinced you were still alive.
Your death – unthinkable.
We’d just talked; you sounded better than you had in weeks
I opened the door and saw Mom’s face: I knew you’d left to be with Jesus

I saw the ambulance. Felt so sorry for whatever member of the maintenance or kitchen staff had been hurt in an accident.
Adam Goren is dead.
Four short words. My classmate’s voice. Unthinkable. Confusion.
Sure she’d gotten the story wrong.
In the chapel: confusion. Dead or still living?
Dead. Your loving vibrant spirit, extinguished.

I used to think my disbelief was optimism.
Or self preservation.
Now, I think I can’t bear the pain. Not right away.
I ease into bad news the same way I ease into the frigid water of a lake in early summer.
Walk in slowly. Get used to the cold. Then walk a bit more.
Knees. Thighs. Groin. Lower belly. Upper belly.
Somewhere in the belly region, take a deep breath.
Dive under that cold cold water.

At some point, it really is easier to dive than to bear the cold.
  • Current Music
    The Eagles ~ Seven Bridges Road
Little Blue Penguin

Beer

So, tomorrow I have to go have a twelve hour fasting blood test. And I am hungry. And I want a beer. Grrrr.

So, while I would normally be trooping downstairs to the lovely House 42 communal kitchen, and making a little kettle corn and opening up a lovely brew, I am in my room drinking water. ::sigh::

I am consoling myself with thoughts of stopping at Starbucks on the way home for that amazingly decadent treat: A Peppermint Mocha Latte. It's a good thing that they don't serve those things all year round, or I would be working on a 40 pound seminary weight gain, rather than just a thirty pound one. After all, I'll be VERY hungry.
  • Current Music
    Credence Clearwater Revival ~ Heard it through the Grapevine
Little Blue Penguin

Advent?

Advent - that time of year when we prepare for Christmas. It's not supposed to be all about the parties and the Christmas carols. In theory it's calmer. A little penitential, even, like Lent. I used to have this dream back when I was a bookstore manager that Advent would feel so much saner when I was working in the church. After all, I could live fully into the season. I'd be preparing.

Not so much.

Seminary is just chock-a-block with more ways to fill one's days: meetings, exams, reading, writing, playing. It's not the harried pre-Christmas insanity of retail in December. Instead, it is the harried pre-exam insanity of the end of an academic semester. Throw in some field ed. commitments, a pesky sermon, and some travel to be with friends as they are ordained to the priesthood, and really, I feel like I can hardly imagine the end, which will come ready or not! Then, there is that NEWT preparation that I am supposed to be doing. Hmmm.

And then, tonight, I got a glimpse of Advent. At our Advent Service of Lessons and Carols, I actually got to breathe. My friends performed snippets of biblical text. The choirs sang lovely Advent Carols. And time stood still, for just a while. Advent was here.
  • Current Music
    Anonymous 4 ~ Sweet Hour of Prayer
Little Blue Penguin

Snowy fairytale - a little homesick

It SNOWED in Northern Virginia last night. Nothing like I'd get at home in Western Mass, after all, but enough to take it seriously. Boots were required. The maintenance guys were spreading sand and salt.

So there I was. Late for chapel. That's not really a shock. But no one else was around. And the ground was covered in beautiful fluffy snow. And the trees looked like they do in fairytales - covered, as well. The sky was cerulean blue, and the sun was streaming down. I was filled with joy.

There's nothing like walking by yourself in the snow - even if you can sense others around.

And it made me just the tiniest bit homesick. We just don't get snow here in NoVa very much. I thought about all those times I sat on my breezeway and watched the snow fall. It's always the snow that gets me. You can take a girl out of New England, but you can't (apparently) take the New England out of the girl.
  • Current Music
    Steeleye Span ~ Tempted and Tried