In awe, and language

*Photo,RevMarisa Gumercinda Stephens

 

 

'I am in awe'                               timothy r gates, 9/26/2015

Looking into their eyes,
I recall when I saw
fairies, imps, gnomes, angels,
and God.
Then I listened to the detractors,
they said they knew better.
So important to be able, need,
to prove that this romantic,
Peter Pan heart is not fact.
Fact?
Funny, what are called facts,
these change too.
I stopped seeing.
Today, for a moment,
I put on the lenses
of a little friend's, unwitting,
innocence.
Looking into the heavens,
I find myself beyond faith's and science's declarations.
I am in awe.
Hello, my friends,
fairies, imps, gnomes, angels --
I am in awe.

'The Dance'                                 trgates, 9/13/2015

before one pirouette
before one roll
before a tattoo noted
before poetry or pigment on canvass commented,
i beheld the turn
i beheld a bow
i beheld a form in icon
i beheld lines and colours in an extended hand.
i beheld what i behold --
The Dance.

'Singing with the birds'       timothy r gates, 7/23/2015

at one time I sang with birds,
Great Horned Owl
a Cardinal
four or five Finches.
singing with the birds,
not unlike intuition of your dog
or indifference of your cat,
until sitting on your lap.
one of my Sons offered,
"Dad, you like the idea of nature."
True.
when I sang with birds
they sang with me
thought, maybe a St. Francis or Seraphim thing?
I laughed out loud.
Finches and Cardinal hung out
standing in finger's length from them,
sun and dew reminded us -
yes, it's early morning. 
heart moved into my throat,
feeling a Great Horned Owl
six feet shadow closing in,
this royal winged Bird glided
up, into my well aged Spruce.
Go ahead, stand with these birds,
sing out of tune, even a half step,
wait and see before they peck your eyes out -
i'd only suggest that you find your part.

A piece worked on in my sleep. Live these

'Each day, an exile'              timothy r gates, 9//05/2015

Suns set,
Moons rise
Sleeping without rest
Resting, yet fidgety
Virgin, but promiscuous
Chaste without indiscretion.
When a Sun drenched Moon
rises,
who would not tear up,
recalling their recline hours before,
rolling over and
finding each other, still,
discreet in unclothed chastity. 
Until such an apocalypse,
each day, an exile,
Suns and Moons are,
in waiting.
(Like Moses, of old,
hiding his face from G-d.
lest he die,
some Angels, Women and Men
only see a Sun or Moon.) 
Behold.

'Language'                                     timothy r gates, 6/30/2015

words said,
not said
darkness blanketed light,
then words were heard
logos before,
during, after
a word arrived,
or left unsaid.
no word is unsaid -
though not always given voice
loud as a ruling lion
quiet as a rippling stream,
behind a forest's arms.
whisper in brevity
language opens windows,
when embraced as icons.
Do I think that words,
collected into my profound thoughts,
written for everyone's edification,
capture the sublime?
Or, do angels in flight stop to listen?
Hell, heaven - no.
I attend to the silence of their flight.

 

Views gifted from more than one lens

Looking into the sun, eclipse, father gives me his welding lenses that I might behold what might otherwise blind. Then he whispered, “Son, without the Sun there is no Moon, and without the Moon there is no Sun – one, alone, we’d be blinded; the other, alone, we’d behold nothing.” I have beheld both thanks to more than one lens.

'A Son's Friend died'   (3years past, they were 15)trgates,10/16/2015

A friend dies,
in our youth.
A Mother dies,
In our years past youth.
We sigh, past tears, we think.
they come again, briefly.
Lazarus died, his best friend,
Jesus, came four days late --
He wept. He healed his friend.
His friend wept three years later.
He was unable to heal him.
Perhaps they too walked Emmaus Road.
Eternity's breath is quick,
each gone, as another arrives.
We are jealous for their smile
their cries
their laugh, like no other
their ego, taking time to engage ours.
We pray, even if we don't pray
We curse, even God, for misplaced
omniscience and omnipotence
Mostly, we miss
our friend
our Mother
our others.
Kaddish. Memory Eternal is intoned. Chant, Book of the Dead. Grieve.
One thing we know -
though some speak of them being in a better place,
a good bandage while in public -
Love knows nothing save a Blessed Repose
Love's Eternal Memory is lived
Love has no need for abstract, well intended comfort
Love merely knows, that though bribed by death,
we see them still because.,
well, just because.

'She sings her song'        timothy r gates, 9/15/2015(for Alissa's 22nd)

many lights,
one unfailed candle
stars burn out,
there's always a north star
angels fell to earth,
an angel whispers in silence
She sings her song,
broken wings heal
She sings her song,
sometimes alone.
listen in between the words,
fairies, angels and imps -
gnomes too,
know her voice.

'This Imp is my hope'  timothy r gates, 7/8/2012; reworked 9/15/15

when heaven opens, she smiles,
not knowing that divinity's dancing
when her heart breaks,
not knowing that empty bottles
welcome the overflow:
I know,
when I shook my fists violently
when I desired no more breaths
when I hated that I could not stop believing -
My sweet Imp reminded me to
sing
open my arms
pray like it's real.
My eyes anointed
with mud from sand,
I don't know if I ever see trees walking,
I know this heart and soul,
this Imp is my hope,
when she walks up behind me
and places her head upon my shoulder,
whispering,
"Daddy, I love you,"
I know this other sh' matters not a twit.

First piece, a Daddy's love beholding his Daughter's (always a queen from birth) love, now evolving to when she'll behold her own little boy coming forth face to face. The second piece reflects and celebrates the divine-mother, human-divine always of love's engaging, transfigured by now.
'Birthday dates, and more'           timothyrgates,8/11/2015

Birthday dates, and more.
I beheld the universes in your eyes,
you were placed into my arms
timelines eclipsed by eternity,
I understood creation story's,
"and the earth was void, and darkness
covered it......   'Let there be light,'
and there was light."
Birthday dates, and more,
a deluge of universes remain for your viewing,
as you'll hold them in your arms,
and silence will be baptized -
baby skin, mushed vegetables
naps during nursing, perpetual clean up
and various cries
before you imagine it,
you'll know this refrain,
Birthday dates, and more.

 

'My Boy, my Son'             timothy r gates,6/20/2015,18th birthday

He walks quietly,
not sharing his thoughts
not offering a contrary view
not giving unsolicited advise
Unless he
sees others demeaning you
hears you dismissing another's beliefs
feels your harmful intent
He hates
infidelity of any kind
treating 'pets' like they're less than human
opinions expressed that give no room for other opinions
He loves loudly
his mother, brothers and sisters, family
his grandmother, not even a complaint when asking for help
his girlfriend, friends, and unique is one he disagrees with often
He walks louder,
when your fidelity is unquestioned
when your hurt needs only his empathy
when your love gives words to a song, no matter the music genre
He pulls me in
with one of the best smiles ever, when he chooses to let it seen
when he says, "I love you dad," everyday
(three words still are like, "let there be light," to a chaotic heart.)
when I see his face amidst other teens, or look from behind the altar
He walks,
always with heart and soul, feeling as deep as he believes
always with an intuition that dogs and cats know
always with an eye for, "What's next?"
Eighteen, now history.
My Boy, my Son,
today is always your day.

ten pieces, 6/20/2015 - 10/9/2015

The difference between psychopaths, sociopaths, or terrorists for religious or ideological reasons?  The latter give justifications for their murdering of children, innocents, and their families, and recruit others of like mindedness. Books are written about both types of conquests.  They're rarely written about those murdered. Blessed are ______, for ______ receive mercy.
...............Columbus and others did it here in America, as others have in conquering person and people over the centuries.  .....And so some still hide behind the euphemisms and metaphors of war.

'Columbus sailed the ocean blue'         timothy r gates,10/9/2015

Columbus sailed the ocean blue,
one thing that was true.     
said these folks in "India" were
lovely, God's less than creatures,
"We'll teach them,
subjugate, pillage,
then we'll not forget to share our disease -
yes, it's God's will,"
The cattle and the thousand hills are his.
how do you argue with a vision?
1492, sailed the ocean blue, later
the Red, White, and Blue,
like myths in nation's his-stories,
would accuse others of
imperialism, or illegal immigration,
forgetting the
Red and Yellow,
Black and White,
precious in Jesus' view,
subjugated by the few.
Columbus did sail,
believed it his divine mission,
Spain expecting gold from his
conquest,
never sailed the ocean true.
The "City on the Hill"
spins her story well,
taking cue from Columbus lore,
starvation, thievery, and murder
all "for the common good."
The "City on the Hill,"
they've learned this story well,
"Bring me your tired....."
just make sure they know their place
in Americas' Golgotha.
Columbus, please, if you will,
after leaving your mission blue,
pray for those still subjugated,
many never seeing an ocean blue,
and that they not learn to prey.

'Good is Good'                                 timothy r gates,09/23/2015

Good is Good.
critique anyone,
opinions are opinions,
some forget they've changed more than once. 
'It's difficult to damn someone you love.'
think of the most horrid acts,
whomsoever from any time.
if my ego is bigger than it's been,
then i say, as i have,
"i'd never do that!"
terrifying. horrific,
from the violations of children
from the same of women and men
from those left in pain from this violation
from the millions upon millions killed (murdered)
from the millions following orders to kill the enemy
from the lonely, hungry, poor, any unable to better their situation -
and we know this, how?
"I don't know what I would've done, or would do,"
i know people from all of these horrific situations,
most often they have made a difference in my heart and life.
Good is Good.
i know conservatives to liberals, and more.
theists and atheists,
most sharing in common a love for others.
Good is Good.
'It's impossible to damn someone you love."
no matter the source,
no matter the person,
Good is Good.

'Suicide, selfish?' - or- 'Grateful for love'    trgates, 9/20/2015

3.000 people die daily.
not by cancer
not at the hands of drunk driving
not from domestic gunshot
not in civil unrest
not by war's friendly fire
not by enemy shots
not because of an auto immune deficiency syndrome
not by way of an over active immune syndrome
not because age just catches up,
or life's time line stops.
"Suicide, selfish?"
"Suicide is the epitome of selfishness!"
people hurting like hell,
because someone they loved fell asleep to time this way.
people not knowing what they're talking about,
as though they have a divining eye.
people you pray are never faced with this goodnight call.
Selfish?
too many minute by minute, 24/7, one more day just making it
one day at a time blurred by the thousands to come
love so intense for everyone, you think this is best for them
lenses long broken, not able to even want to find them.
Selfish?
those promising their bullshit view of hell to those checked out
those unsuccessful at what was thought as a gift to all ----
now receive a gift to let go of their, now, known selfish act.
such baptized sadness,
like emphysema's re-occurring pneumonia,
drowning over and over. Again.
pulled out of the Red Sea's deluge,
gasping an unwanted breath,,,,,,,,
not being part of this horrid statistic --
epitome of love's selfishness:
grateful gratefulness. 
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

'Listening to each other's breath'            timothy r gates, 9/14/2015

melodies float,
her voice, his too
harmonies unforced.
in the song of two,
we stop.
wiping the moisture away,
our faces know being well spent,
tears shared, or sweat's amorous drops -
reclining, there's no hurry, just
listening to each other's breath.

Looking into the face of my newest grandchild I remember each of my children and grandchildren, and am thankful. For some reason I was brought, in reflection, to 9/11 and how I am grateful that that is not today, and that I am gifted to behold what heaven and earth are in awe. Perhaps somehow, somewhere, in her blessed repose, my Mother is smiling with a tear, and telling anyone near who Nolan looks like, as she did immediately at the first sight of each of our children. I do think of those broken because of the loss of their innocents, and others, finding it difficult to contemplate with joy. And then I too am in awe of Nolan., newest vision of joy, and Halle, and Danielle Michael, and all my children too. You always give me reasons to do more than merely breathe. Love.

'Love's Icons'

Doors open,
once closed.
remembering that day, youngest Son,
four
youngest Daughter, seven.
Thankful they were safe
Thankful my older ones, brave in life,
were safe.
Thankful that our family
could still hug and kiss each other,
blessing with,
"I love you," at each departure. 

Windows open,
once screened.
remembering that my Granddaughter, middle grandchild,
was not there
remembering all those fallen asleep, in blessed repose,
beloveds broken by sadness
all my family, household and extended,
were protected.
Thankful for love then, love present,
old and new, all knowing the transcendent,
"I love you."
Memory's love knows no repose. 

Love's icon
like a Hummingbird's hover
an Eagle's soar
a Lion's deliberateness
a Silver-back Gorilla's presence -
doors open
windows open.
Angels even drop one tear,
in awe of those they watch,
sometimes feeling helpless,
knowing what they would not otherwise,
in our sublime eternal,
"I love you."

'Mother of living'                  timothyrgates,8/17/2015

broken by sorrow's spear
grief like no grief before,
shaking not only her fists
quivering, well spent by weeping,
tears, she knows the psalmist's promise
these reserved in a corkless bottle,
like the Red Sea, dry to stroll upon
wet to run through -
Mother holds her Son.
Mother dies.
Son holds his Mother -
will not wallow in brokenness
a hiss's tease is tossed aside,
neither belief, or skeptic causes pause
melancholy's waltz taps across the dirge,
She gasps for air, again.
He stops holding his.
Now reminiscences are placed in their home,
alphabetically tombed.
Mother kicks it,
living.

'Birthday dates, and more'           timothyrgates,8/11/2015

Birthday dates, and more.
I beheld the universes in your eyes,
you were placed into my arms
timelines eclipsed by eternity,
I understood creation story's,
"and the earth was void, and darkness
covered it......   'Let there be light,'
and there was light."
Birthday dates, and more,
a deluge of universes remain for your viewing,
as you'll hold them in your arms,
and silence will be baptized -
baby skin, mushed vegetables
naps during nursing, perpetual clean up
and various cries
before you imagine it,
you'll know this refrain,
Birthday dates, and more.

'I don't believe in'  timothy r gates, 7/15/2015 - thank you, Nick Cave

I don't believe in
providence or luck
certainly not that
"everything happens for a reason,"
other than the reason is that it happens.
I believe that I don't know
the why's or what's
certainly not there's no God
or Angels.
I know that when
I look into your eyes
see you cry
hear you laugh
feel your grief
feel your joy --
I know that the what's and why's
matter not
what I don't have alone
I am baptized by these,
by you.
I believe in
Heaven, Angels, a God
when you believe in me -
hell, demons, devils
these are where
no one sees another's tears
another's joy
another's sorrow
another's blessed happiness. 
Into your eyes I fall.

'Flags'                         timothy r gates, 6/25/2015


Fly them.
Flag wavers,
never been.
Flag burners,
teen burners, later adults
know their misdirected zeal.
Stars and stripes forever
Confederate flags
Christian flags
Crescent Moons
Red with a star
Blues
Yellows
Sunburst
North Star.
Consider: for America,
under the Red, White, and Blue,
fly each country flag, defeated
ending with those representing tribes given reservations. 
Flags
all symbols have substance
all things of substance have symbols -
why
flag wavers and burners get it.
Well, sometimes. 

'My Boy, my Son'             timothy r gates,6/20/2015,18th birthday

He walks quietly,
not sharing his thoughts
not offering a contrary view
not giving unsolicited advice
Unless he
sees others demeaning you
hears you dismissing another's beliefs
feels your harmful intent
He hates
infidelity of any kind
treating 'pets' like they're less than human
opinions expressed that give no room for other opinions
He loves loudly
his mother, brothers and sisters, family
his grandmother, not even a complaint when asking for help
his girlfriend, friends, and unique is one he disagrees with often
He walks louder,
when your fidelity is unquestioned
when your hurt needs only his empathy
when your love gives words to a song, no matter the music genre
He pulls me in
with one of the best smiles ever, when he chooses to let it seen
when he says, "I love you dad," everyday
(three words still are like, "let there be light," to a chaotic heart.)
when I see his face amidst other teens, or look from behind the altar
He walks,
always with heart and soul, feeling as deep as he believes
always with an intuition that dogs and cats know
always with an eye for, "What's next?"
Eighteen, now history.
My Boy, my Son,
today is always your day.