Unforced Hope

Deflect panic

consecrate the good

convert pain

Hear the evil see the

good feel the pain

hope translates

Despair alone

mimics

transformation

For God's sake which

is to say our

neighbor's

The smiling spirit

transparent beneath

the mask

Leave breathing space

for heart piercing

suffering

Challenge the spread

of contagious

nonchalance

Filter the fog

of bureaucratic

betrayal

On guard for placebos

that trivialize

the grief

Prepare to be

startled by unrestrained

giggles

Act with loving

presence to

reshape the pain

Pray into the presence

of a God whose habit

it is to walk with us

Face the world

boldly with

tragic optimism

The last line of the poem are the words of Viktor Frankl, author of Man's Search for Meaning. Simply put, tragic optimism is the ability to say yes to the no of even the deepest suffering. It does not mean that we ignore reality or that we don't do everything we can to stop the suffering. Case in point: to withhold or mismanage resources we have presently to combat Covid-19 is inexcusable if not criminal. And not to pay attention to the science is dangerously shortsighted. But tragic optimism also means we go deep in our soul to find the hopeful strength to triumph.

 A Walk in the Woods

Mid December

     rain slowed to

         a slow drizzle

Time for a ten-year

old and his

                long absent father

Slow quiet heart-filled walk

in south

                   Alabama woods

Over a carpet of rain soaked

leaves birds and small

          animals the only sound

Carrying shot guns

          just in case a squirrel

         or two for supper

See that hickory

the one with a

                hole 'bout 12 feet up

I could see it coming

          a story but I had to give

       him time to tell it

When I was a kid on a day like today

my Dad and I saw a tall dead tree

 with a hole half-way up

We never thought

about a snake

          being in the hole

Went home got the wagon and

a crosscut saw came

                back and cut if for firewood

Threw all the pieces onto

              the wagon never thought the

                     one with the hole had a snake

Stacked all the pieces out

              back of the house including

               the one with the hole in it

Burned that wood all winter

            and come early spring threw

                       the one with the hole on the fire

He quit talking I waited

             as long as I could was there

     a snake in the hole

I don't know

I never

                      thought about it

     One year when I was nine, going on ten, my grandmother died and my mother and I moved down to stay with my grandfather in south Alabama for a couple of years to help out. My dad, who had been teaching for some twenty years with a two year teaching certificate took that time to go back to college and get his degree. Money was tight and I don't remember seeing much of my Dad during that time. The one time I do remember was when he came home for Christmas the year I turned ten and we went squirrel hunting, just the two of us. That was when he told me this story. I tell it now with no overarching purpose except to offer a diversion for these trying times. I don't know, can snakes climb trees? I suppose I could google it.

     Are you still there? Got another minute? I have another take on I never thought about it.

     The morning after I composed this poem, I had a video appointment with my cardiologist. At the end of the visit, he said, "Just be sure to wear a mask whenever you leave the house."

A couple of days after the call I went outside to set the sprinklers. From a comfortable distance I watched a neighbor visiting with the mail man, neither of whom wore a mask. After he got his mail he came over to see what I was wearing around my neck and we visited. A few minutes later as I was making my way to the backyard sprinklers, I met another neighbor, who also was not wearing his mask, getting his mail and we visited for a few minutes in my driveway. I finished my work with the sprinklers and came inside. That evening my wife asked, "Why weren't you wearing your mask?"

     My answer? I never thought about it.

     All this in the midst of the Covid19 virus pandemic. Think about it. I certainly will, from now on.

          Be smart, stay safe

          Max