Arts
The Arts section of Orient Lodge
Insomnia
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Wed, 04/08/2015 - 20:40It’s not really in the middle of the night.
The writing hour is around four a.m.
It’s not really in the dark of the night.
The clock dial glows, showing the time
and the light of the waning moon
leaks in through the windows.
It’s not really being wide awake.
It’s where the memories
of the evening’s dreams
that quickened the plus
are still vivid and real.
It’s where the concerns of yesterday
and the plans for tomorrow meet
over and over again
until eons
of lying in the warm bed
for five minutes have passed.
The Unknown Guest
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Mon, 04/06/2015 - 21:23I saw him again today, the unknown guest
riding in a blue van down Main Street,
a homeless man I’ve offered words of hope to.
I don’t know his story,
if he is a descendant of the good Samaritan
a relative of St. Alban
or an angel in disguise.
Perhaps, he’s a character in some poem
or in some story I’m reading
or even a part of an unremembered dream.
Does he have a special message for me?
Would I be able to hear it, if he does?
Do we all have special messages for one another
that get lost in the transactions of daily life?
Easter 2015
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Sun, 04/05/2015 - 20:30The ice recedes, the old snow melts
the flowers soon appear.
In the little pond the ducks return
and taunt the barking dog.
The yard’s a mess, the scars of winter
mar the family lawn.
Yet the sun’s warmth and the peeping frogs
foretell spring’s coming dawn.
The rolling toll of distant bells
proclaim that Lent is done.
The Risen Lord revealed today
that victory is won.
Good Friday Fog
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Fri, 04/03/2015 - 21:45We know the science behind fog
when the water vapor begins to condense.
We know the poetry behind fog
on little cat feet.
We know confusion of fog,
the fog of war or a foggy mind.
This evening, I drove to church in a fog.
Snow, melting on a warm day
and condensing on a cool night.
The family cat died earlier this week.
My wife and daughter have been sick
and I’m going to church
to contemplate
the mystery
of
Good Friday.
I know the story,
I’ve heard it year after year,
but like the fog
there is still a beautiful mystery.
Maundy Thursday
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Thu, 04/02/2015 - 21:17How do you wash feet online?
I’m not talking about posting about it
on Facebook
like
I’m at Maundy Thursday Service
at Grace and St. Peter’s.
And I’m obviously not talking
about something physical
with water.
No, I’m thinking about
how we subvert power structures,
how leaders become servants
and how we allow others
to serve us
in our brokenness.
It isn’t easy
to step outside of the power structure
no matter what your role
particularly online
where snark reigns supreme
but it seems
desperately needed.
