Like everyone along the coast, Sister Darling, of the
Rarefied Church of the World (reformed),
Knew that a
“When Hell Freezes Over”
Storm Was on the way. She came to my Lighthouse Island The day before,
Because the fishing boats (Her mode of transport). Would be staying put in port. She quickly got the soul-saving Out of the way, Renewed her friendship with Paw, my cat/kitten, Black as tar With one white mitten And then, the next day, Romped with us In front of the fire, Happily sharing Her own warmth.
I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2022 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report} DE BA. UEL
As arranged, I met the fishing boat At my Lighthouse dock, Within the first hour Of sunlight, With my cat/kitten,
Black as coal in your stocking, With one white mitten,
Perched on my shoulder. To which he has taken Right well.
Aboard was Sister Darling, of
The Rarefied Church of the World (reformed).
I told the Captain, Before even speaking to The religion-professing Darling, That he need not retrieve her Upon his evening return. And wished him A most Auspicious Christmas.
She carried a hamper of Christmas fare And good cheer. As we together walked Up toward the Lighthouse Keeper’s House, My cat/kitten, With one effortless leap, Transported himself From my shoulder To hers. He is perhaps anticipating Some culinary miracle In addition to That of Christmas Eve.
I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report} DE BA. UEL
The elephant was standing in the rain, enjoying the rivulets which streamed along the creases of his skin.
It was cleansing and refreshing, and he occasionally flapped his huge ears, causing a small waterfall. The birds and monkeys kept a safe distance.
“You’ll be creating your own weather system,” said the cloud, which was part of the larger cloud covering the whole sky. “Trunk squalls and violent ear showers.”
“Just a portion of your abilities,” said the elephant.
“Part of something is part of everything,” said the cloud. “I don’t do my works on my own.”
“A humble part,” said the elephant.
“Humble neither in might nor main,” said God. “That would be the estimation of most of my species – both animal and plant.”
“I feel humble.”
“You are humble,” said God. “But I don’t want you to feel humble.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want you to realize how wonderful, how exciting, how important – how equal – everything around you is. The blade of grass you eat; the stream from which you drink; the ants under your feet who keep the earth healthy; the butterflies who make the plants grow.”
“The butterflies are beautiful.”
“They’re all beautiful.”
“I’m not so sure about the ants,” said the elephant.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” said God. “And I behold everything.”
It has been my odd experience to have twice lived across the street from a huge, lighted Cross.
The first appeared to be the height of three men standing on each others shoulders. It was across a wide field and a road, from where I used to house-sit a number of occasions over the years..It was in the yard of a private dwelling, and was (so I was told) a memorial to a relative who had died in a mine disaster.
When the sun went down, it came on. Whether someone in the house turned it on, or light sensors on the edifice gauged the amount of darkness, I do not know. The street was a dead end street, so there was not a lot of traffic. However, if I so chose, I could get the full benefit of it. It shone brightly for hours onto the front of the house. And into the house if one was in one of the front rooms or bedrooms. It had a blue hue, and an unrelenting vibrancy that made one eventually think of neon. I didn’t so much think of spirituality or practicality, but did wonder at the waste.of money and resources for – let’s be honest – so little effect. I also (somewhat uncharitably) assumed that the cross did not shine forth from both sides, and the folk in the house behind it were not affected.
Then, years later, I found myself in another house, across another street, from a giant cross left alight all night. This cross did not shine directly into the house, but slanted more along the street, and not across it. It is affixed by mighty metal stanchions and stays atop a huge Evangelical church. When darkness comes, its emblazoned light can be seen across a whole city and, by my reckoning, into the hills beyond. I am not certain, but I also imagine it can be seen by ships at sea.
But, both crosses bestow upon me the light of the Lord, and I’ll happily take whatever blessings might be granted.
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