So many songs
so little energy to move them to the front
In the dark I imagine the beauty of those songs
song aloud and with feeling
Yet all alone I hold my head with shame

Little moves at first
then bold stokes and vibrant whistling sounds
like a tea kettle
boiling over

Stirring visions of courage well up
and are drowned with halting bitter tears

A true fear
the kind that goes unspoken
yet as present and debiliting as a
sledge hammer to the knees

Not again the familiar taste of
lost opportunity and a move never
made

All along the wall the doubts of countless
relations and near-friends can be depended
upon to drag your feet slowly away from your spirit

Dance quickly away from those that would squash your dreams
Dance quickly away from the weaker energies that would have you
share their fate

Look to the moon
when no one is present
Reach above your head as the ceiling
seems within your grasp

Know that you too have come this way and your destiny is
a matter of wills
The will to be and do
versus the will to know no alternative but dramatic success

Children play in loud spurts of sound
while parents speak in whispered tones and
hushed smiles of laughter

one ear to the children
while our eyes offer our attention to
the room

Christmas leafs color the air
in fragrances of fall
glimpses of the fire dance off walls
trading flickering shadows and bright colors of light

A mood made soft and warm through reverance and deliberation
Silent, holy night

on the eve of christmas eve
under a brightly lighted sky
staring coldly into the night
santa prances devilishly
by

stolen glimpses
out the corner's eye
good children sleep
while bad children weep

pray the Lord
your soul to keep
leaving presents
in a heap

jingle bells and mistletoe
chimney tales and noses that glow

merry christmas
and good night

blessed wishes
of the coming year

share your spirit
with the night
shedding darkness
with the light

The shadows lift only for a moment
in the dark corners that surround our memories
the dreams seem far away

The aches of blunders large and small
the daggers left buried to the hilt
The sound of tear drops bouncing off the
tattered sheets of history
leave stains desolving thoughts of hope

In the corner of my mind
beside the willing spirit
I feel the presence of greatness

The moment I see it's
still, steel face
I shriek in retreat

The willing spirit so often
has only served me with bitter
regrets
for I have been stopped before

The courage to embrace
my fear has thus far eluded
my grasp

flitting moments
gone in a whisper and empty
as darkness

I shutter at the prospect
that when the music stops
the silence will be woefully
familar

In the center of my heart
I pray

Courage help me stand while others run
and hold when all have released
share when there is little to gain

The answer to so many questions
is laid before us in bright colors
The sense that we have passed this way before
the feeling that a face in the crowd is more familar
then it should be
The belief in love at first sight

Evidence that all that is

we know

The most difficult times
require the most ardent support
of all those universal truths
that pass so freely from our lips.

Pray for the vision to see that God's
will is always present.

Pray for the comfort of
all who's brother's fall.

Pray for peace!

There can be nothing more difficult
nothing more thrilling,
nothing more spectacular,
nothing more challenging,
nothing more rewarding then raising a child!

Forgiveness is the source
the source of all that
makes peace in the universe.

Looking into the eyes of strangers
I sometime find myself praying to
see their approval.

I wonder if what I say
makes sense and if
they seem to validate me
I proceed.

I am at my level best
when I lose sight of
the fact that everyone
has their drama.

When the passion
from which I speak rises
unabated by self doubt or
second thought, I can
touch people where they live.

This I feel is all that I truly
have to share in this work.
Sometime that's enough.
Sometime it's not.
So it goes.

She's older then I remember
and somehow so fragile.

Still she smiles
and shares happily
with the people she encounters.

Of all the traits I most admire
her willing smile.
Her gentle spirit
remains her deepest mystery.

My mother is a happy woman.
She sits immoblized
by the ravages of stroke
yet still she smiles.

Her mind isn't what it
was yet, still still she smiles.
My mother's greatest
gift to me is a sense
that things are never
really too bad.

You live your life
and do whatever you do.

Thank you mother.
As I struggle to interpret
all that you have given me
I pray that I too shall one day
share the eternal joy that rules
inspite of all our earthly foibles.

Thank you mother
for being you.

I am sometime restless
with anger, bitterness and shame.

The unwelcomed child
overcomes the educated man
and polished professional.

The wisedom taught in parenting
I sometime hold at arms length.
I see what I need
yet I sometime need not to understand.

I seek the familiar comfort
I rest in sadness and self doubt.
My mothers were good women.
Thoughtful women, who wanted
all things for me.

Yet the pale gray veil
of separation and loss
will often blanket me like
San Francisco fog.

My mothers were good women.
Yet here I stand.

My mother's words
are frozen in my ears
like so much water
from a luke warm pool.

What's it all mean? Not much save for the bitter realization
that our children's lives are forever touched by the choices we make
in the moment.

Every moment will not be our finest
and that fact brings home the most strident of universal truths;
do what you can, when you can, with love in your heart
and your truth in the forefront.

Our children's ears are forever open, their eyes see well beyond
what we say. Thankfully, their hearts are ever hopeful!

How do you relate to another, the intensity of your very personal pain?
When prospective parents present themselves, we professionals look to "prepare" and train
them for the rigors of this journey.
We attempt to educate them to the dangers of "caring too much".
We open our judgment books and use our professional pulpits to harang and harrass until the family either
gives up or proves to us that they are worthy.
We give them a crash course in psychology, behavior modification and psychic healing.
Separation and Loss, commitment and unconditional love,
Attention deficit, attachment disorders and
bonding become so much jibber in a sea of meaningless words.
How do you prepare someone to face their worst fears and deepest secrets?
How many weeks would it take you to search your truest heart hoping to find only purity and agape love?
What we must do is strip the process down to it's barest elements.
We must provide a forum where
folks feel safe to explore their deepest motivations.
We have the opportunity to help explore our greatest
energy source, the human spirit.
That voice that calls us from our sleep and moves us into lifes' challenges.
Standing before a crowded room and feeling the spirits immerging unto the room is my reward.
Watching the eyes of a person who for the first time begins to understand what it is we must do leaves me warm in God's embrace.

Listening to the rain

As a family life advocate
I often find myself rooted in the
mundane trevails of everyday life.

I stand voice raised in indignation
at some perceived violation of every persons'
inalienable right to be miserably trapped in
the unyielding morass that is relationship.

Foster children are denied this most basic
of human rights. Are they better for it? Are they somehow
better balanced as individuals? Do they contribute more per capita to
the betterment of society?

No an emphatic unequivocal no! no! no!
In the misery that relationship can be is the secret to heaven.
The joy of being a part rather then being A- PART far outweighs
any bogus make believe about individual freedom or independant living.

We must be dependant in order to acheive any real sense of independence at all.

In the world of foster care and adoption
the rules that guide most of our other relationships
are strangely twisted.

When a child fails to heed a parent's direction
that child is not then discharged from the family.
Children are allowed the blunders that build character
and teach the lessons that shape adulthood.

In foster care the young ward is expected to be
obedient, without fault and most of all grateful.
These traits are rarely found in the person of any child;
the histories that these children must endure leave no room for
qualities that can only hope to be developed in the safety of family.

When I was a young boy I wondered
how it was that I would ever repay my mother.
The mother that protected me so furiously from all that might cause me harm.

When I became a teen I resented that debt.
Resentment built upon the knowledge that I could never repay that which
was given willingly.

One of the faces of my mother's protection hid the secret of my origin.
She fought diligently for over thirty years. She enlisted the aid and support
of many that would call me family. When the secret was revealed years of
angst and trepidation drifted slowly away.

Years later I sometime struggle to reconcile a love so true that it could endure
such bitter internal turmoil. While the sting of a lifetime of lies brings me little comfort I must appreciate
the agony of silence.
Family however they are formed are more then just a grouping of individuals. The collective
nature of the family must offer protection to the individual in order to keep the collective alive.
When you have a group of individuals that strive for themselves alone. That then becomes a mob.

Grant that this day and everyday hence
I shall use this space in pursuit of sharing
the kind of sharing that comes about with healing

As a father I strive to be present and strong for my children
As a husband I seek the courage to share my fears and tears with my mate
As a voice for adoption I strive to remember that loving, positive relationship in all it's forms is the key to world salvation
As a child of God I pray for the understanding that comes of Grace

Walking along the road to family we often are side tracked and blind sided by the diversions that life sometime offers
we begin to wonder about our roles and the values that we place on the experiences of life
I find that the most profound answers come to me when I stop whatever I am doing and listen to the sounds of wisedom
Today I make a promise to today
the promise that while I work for my money
I shall momentarily remember why I do the work