I met an old man in the park’s dying light His eyes kind and bright; his hand waiting fast We shook as he asked, “If with you it’s all right “Wanna hear what I saw when I passed?”
“Last weekend, my heart quit, but soon my dear wife Restarted my ticker! She knows CPR Before coming to, I saw some queer sights You ain’t gonna reach by no car!
“Saw hell where the dress code ain’t meant for no prude But nudeness, they hollered, is never permitted All garb must be racy, risqué, or plain lewd Since modesty’s purely forbidden…”
“And next I saw heaven! Less strict than you’d guess All dress there must highlight one’s beauty with flair Its duty: to accent God’s Image the best Armani could never compare!”
“Hell’s speech code is clear, ain’t no way to refuse No courteous or cordial exchange is endured Just cursing and gossip and God’s name abused Complaining and slander and slurs…”
“But speech was plum peachy on those Golden Shores For never “is heard a discouraging word” All words are affirming; pure kindness outpours ‘Til goodness ‘n love are upstirred!”
My feelings evolved as I pictured such visions First shock… as I saw myself comfy in hell Then peace… as I vowed to make flightpath decisions Not caring ’bout oglers, I yelled…
“I’d best now get ready before the long rest Today, I will start! Gonna dress for success Gonna tame this ol’ tongue for that place to obtain Where each sight and each sound will impress!”
The old man said, “If you do, glory’s in store! May God keep our robes for the feast freshly laundered I’ll see you again once we’ve hopped through death’s door!” He waved and then onward he wandered
Plump raindrops soon soaked and awoke me from wonder Loud thunder arm-twisted my feet quick to burst Mid-sprint, I debated whose ways to live under
Is my use of devices divisive? Do my apps all my time seem to zap? Does my tablet distract me from talk at the table? Am I able to tech with some tact?
Do my selfies intrude and cause tension? From pursuing my screens must I wean? Has my staring impaired all my care and attention That friends are left feeling unseen?
I’ll trade FaceTime for time face to face From my scrolling, I’ll go on retreat I will meet when I can and embrace, and say, “Love you!” Emojis could never compete
So my friend, help me tech with more tact!
And take a crack at that “digital etiquette“
Just a sec- let me check- did my phone just get hacked?
The Rabbi beckoned, “Let the little children come to me!” (1) Each mother gently nudged her tyke toward Him from her side The young ones – crawling, toddling, skipping – flocked to Him, carefree His arms, as three years hence, spread open wide
A toddler reached her eager arms with hope to be caressed He gathered her as would a hen beneath a wing’d embrace She nestled, resting list’ning ear upon His whisp’ring chest That with each beat, repeats His Love and Grace
A rowdy boy soaked up the peace that flowed forth from this Face He plunged his sunburnt head within the worn and tassled shawl Then sobbed, surprised! discov’ring Love that would not be erased Despite his earthlyfather’s tragic fall
A girl stood distant, downcast, feeling worthless and ashamed She could not trust this stranger, for her heart concealed a scar With lonely longing, watched the care the other ones had claimed While the Rabbi searched for someone, near and far
Her look then locked with His! She froze, amazed He’d seek her out She hid; He called her name and bid her join her younger peers She felt a surge of hope that purged her fears and drowned her doubt His eyes sent peace that ceased her bitter tears
As she approached, He coaxed each step; His smile broad and bright Its radiance removed her shame and proved to her, her worth He pulled her in and told her, “You are precious in my sight” (2) Her scar was healed! This moment, her rebirth
Throughout the years that followed all the youth retold their story How Love-in-Person held them in His arms, and in His gaze And how this holding freed their friend, refurbishing her glory Yet He’s heldthe child-like ones in every age
This Healer still repeats His plea, “Come unto Me” and rest (3) To restless ones whose guilt and pride give rise to hopeless pain “Unless you be converted and become like little children Youwill not enter into Heaven’s Reign” (4) *****
The lasting gifts our Father brings Ain’t “mockingbirds” or “diamond rings” Ain’t slick “looking glasses” Or quick “billy goats” (1) Or spilling sacks of crisp green notes
Not boxes boasting bows and strings But seeds that grow undying things These seeds will keep Our souls afloat And safe and sound in Peter’s Boat
First, FAITH- that gives our hearts great wings Then HOPE- for heaven’s “eternal springs” But the best (please ignore The lump in my throat) Is LOVE! A fact not up for vote
Bright LOVE for all, both bums AND kings For Christ, Who makes our spirits sing Three giftsever potent You’ll find me devotin’ To the matchmaking goals Of the “Bridegroom” of souls Whose love Is never Remote ***** (1) Hush Little Baby, by Mother Goose
Rhymes for the Rejoiceful 