The Gruff and Generous Winds of Time

The gruff and generous winds of time,
Some fair, and others foul,
Make fine what was hewn.

Until that which is becomes was.
And was is forgotten.
And that which is forgotten …

Grist for the mill.

Something anew.
Formed and shaped by fresh winds.

To stand and share.
To make amends and build.
Until the winds do their work, again.

© Tom Eggebeen

"Shorter History of Western Civilization" by Robert Lax, 1962

Egyptians

Babylonians

Persians

Egyptians

Babylonians

Persians

Jews & 

Greeks

Jews & 

Greeks

Egyptians

Babylonians

Persians

Egyptians

Babylonians

Persians

Jews &

Greeks

Jews & 

Greeks

Christians

Christians

Christians

Christians

Christians

Christians

Christians

Christians

Christians

       rah

       rah

       rah

I Love Words ...

I love words, and have loved them since my
English Prof back in 1966 challenged me (that's
Another story).

Words are my friend and my enemy.
They welcome and defy me.
Sometimes compliant; sometimes defiant.

They fall into place, sometimes.
Sometimes, like getting blood out of a
Turnip.

Words continue to amaze me.
So many words.
Many I rarely use.

I keep wrestling with them. And,
They with me.
Never a clear winner.

But always the delight.
Of a hard fought
Fight.

Saw God this Morning ...

Walked right on by God this morning.
Working a jackhammer.
Breaking up old cement.
She was wearing a yellow hard hat.

I'm glad I saw God this morning.
Doesn't always happen, so
That I notice.
Have to pay more attention to yellow hard hats.

I Have a Very Good Friend

I have a very good friend.
A writer.
A poet.
A preacher.

Whose life is an open book.
Every word.
From the heart.
With the mind.

He always inspires me.
To see words.
For what they are.
Puffs of light and delight.

At least as I see them.
As they appear.
For a moment.
Here.

My Mind Churns

My mind churns with so many thoughts these days.
Can't keep track of 'em.
But like planets around a sun.
They swirl around a central idea.
Some call it justice.
Others fairness.
The world could do better on so many fronts.
The powerful could be less afraid of losing some power.
The wealthy less afraid of helping others.
And less afraid if they have a million or two less at the end of the year with a better taxation structure to benefit the common good.
If only the pulpits of the land could speak a greater wisdom.
Salvation is for here and now and this good earth.
Whatever eternity means, it ought not to be the only interest of preachers.
God takes care of eternity just fine.
It's here and now that concerns God.
And should concern us, too.
Heaven talk is meaningless without earth talk.
Earth talk is all we need; it will take care of heaven just fine.
Grow up church.
And the same to the powerful and the wealthy.
Grow up.

Victory - What an Odd Word

Just to say a few words ... but what are words?

Strange things, to be sure.

An amalgam of letters, and what are they, but symbols from

Some ancient past.

When folks told stories by campfire.

And in time,

On cave walls, or

Parchment, or 

Vellum,

To become a scroll, a book, a story from the shelf, a

Tall tale of giant sea monsters and

bright stars ... to make children shudder with

Delight ... or shriek with laughter, or

Curl up and go to sleep,

Dreaming of ancient heroes and warriors,

And high waterfalls and wintry mountains,

And ...

Just to say a few words ... but what are words?

In my time, they launch a ship into the sea, and the ship goes off to 

War ... and women and men fight valiantly, for dimly known

Causes ... but for the one at their side. And too many die

For the sake of conquest or victory, and talk about strange word?

What does victory mean?

When standing in a pool of blood?

With death all around?

In the midst of our constant, unyielding, mortality?

Is it immortality that we desire?

In the death of others, we might add more time to our failing candle?

Is it power that delights us?

Our testosterone-driven stories?

Victory! What an odd word!

The Ideal Husband??? - hee hee ...

The Ideal Husband to His Wife

WE'VE lived for forty years, dear wife,

  And walked together side by side,

And you to-day are just as dear

  As when you were my bride.

I've tried to make life glad for you,

  One long, sweet honeymoon of joy,

A dream of marital content,

  Without the least alloy.

I've smoothed all boulders from our path,

  That we in peace might toil along,

By always hastening to admit

  That I was right and you were wrong.

No mad diversity of creed

  Has ever sundered me from thee;

For I permit you evermore

  To borrow your ideas of me.

And thus it is, through weal or woe,

  Our love forevermore endures;

For I permit that you should take

  My views and creeds, and make them yours.

And thus I let you have my way,

  And thus in peace we toil along,

For I am willing to admit

  That I am right and you are wrong.

And when our matrimonial skiff

  Strikes snags in love's meandering stream,

I lift our shallop from the rocks,

  And float as in a placid dream.

And well I know our marriage bliss

  While life shall last will never cease;

For I shall always let thee do,

  In generous love, just what I please.

Peace comes, and discord flies away,

  Love's bright day follows hatred's night;

For I am ready to admit

  That you are wrong and I am right.

Sam Walter Foss

Sam Walter Foss (June 19, 1858 - February 26, 1911) was a librarian and whose works included The House by the Side of the Road and The Coming American.

Do I need to say, the above is a delightful tongue-in-cheek description of the "ideal" husband ... but I suspect some guys might miss the point.

D is shaking her head right now ... she does that a lot with me.