A quest involving traveling
from the West Coast to the Midwest
to express a debt of gratitude to
individuals for their long ago
graciousness toward me. In a world
of selfishness and greed, selfless
Goodness must never go unacknowledged.
A quest to renew acquaintances
with long-ago friends and reminisce
about the childhood years we shared.
I met one of my childhood playmates.
My soul was swallowed up in an emotional
deluge as I cried and held him tight.
A quest to see places and communities
I once roamed and called my home.
The end game of this quest unveiled
emotions difficult to describe. I was
a stranger 50 years removed. So much
of what I once touched and handled
was no longer there. I wept inside.
A quest to share the presence of the
pastor who officiated our wedding. My
long-awaited desire to see once again
a hero of mine was accomplished some
2 years before his demise.
This quest that was initiated more than 15
years ago, is alive and well. Some of this
quest I'm on has been accomplished,
creating deep joy and tears of satisfaction
that are hard to describe. I am very blessed.
The dear old pastor had occupied the same pulpit for years and years;
He preached fire, damnation and The Hereafter scorching his congregants ears!
He had baptized hordes of kids and officiated when they married,
And comforted many mourning souls when their loved-ones were buried!
He suffered through stormy sessions at the monthly meetings of The Board,
And withstood the bickering of sisters of The Women's Guild, utterly bored!
Some of his flock were as stubborn as army mules and were quite contrary!
He faced challenging situations that they didn't teach about in seminary!
He confided with his long-suffering wife proclaiming, "This is the pits!"
And after serving the Lord nigh on thirty years he decided to call it quits.
He advised The Board that he was retiring due to health issues, you see.
(Truth was, he quipped, "I was sick of them and they were sick of me!")
let be...the pressures
of mind...
as...traces of
a yesterdays...
lateness of...even-ing
your calendar...sit
please...andt
listen...to
your mourning...as
this mornings tempo...radio
programme plays...some of
the most...relaxing
classics...written
for...the years
to come andt...gone by
that...v'welcome you
to my...morning
v'world of...a v'wakening
mind...v'what be
your thoughts of...this
officiated morn or...mourn
stan sand
(piled)
You would've labeled it a shotgun wedding,
if you'd seen how we rushed it,
snagging the license on Friday morning
and exchanging vows that same evening.
No white dress, no people-packed pews,
simply a long drive in my brother's Chevy,
from St. Louis to Morse Mill, Missouri;
that July day burned into our memories
at a hundred four degrees, no A/C,
and a flat tire on the road to the church.
Uncle Vernon officiated
in a less-than-five-minute ceremony.
You mean that's it? Is this legal?
I certainly didn't feel married!
"They'll think you're pregnant,"
my mother said. No chance of that,
with our entire courtship advanced
solely through airmail letters.
He was marked for Japan,
courtesy of the U. S. Air Force.
Only death or instant wedlock
were valid pleas for allowing leave.
We hadn't clapped lips together in 10 months.
When he called, I said yes,
and we had the shotgun wedding,
without the gun.
A piece of paper it’s true
The spirit or intention be a shield
The meeting of the minds
Between parties is one
Witness and signs
And officiated as genuine.
The vow is a promise which came true
The fairy tale…
The mystery became a miracle
The agreement and the commitment and extent
The mutuality of spirit
The execution and consummation comes a contract.
But contracts are not made in heaven
For in true life the parties intertwined
Make up its success or its failure.
All in one menu of the main course
Devoured and be labored
But always the expectant more than ever exist!
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