Many years ago, as a student, I heard the venerated poem “If” by Kipling. The truth is, I never understood the need for a young male to successfully pass through a gauntlet of random statements before he could be considered a man. However, during these most peculiar times, we are now faced with the renewed need to illuminate what it takes for a girl to become a woman. Inspired by my young granddaughter, I wrote this poem for her and for every precious child born as female.

A month before my radiation treatments for throat cancer were set to begin, my youngest granddaughter was born. A day or two later, when she was brought home from the hospital, I held her, asleep, cradled in my arm. Her delicate little hands gently folded under her chin. In that moment, great fear cascaded down on me, culminating in a single question. Will I live long enough for this precious child to have any memory of me? Months later, when I began to recover, The Day When I See, became my divinely inspired answer.

What a story right now in the NFL. Brock Purdy. Third string rookie at the beginning of the year, now leading the 49ers on a Super Bowl run. You gotta love it. In the words of Pat Benatar, “Sometimes the good guys finish first.” No doubt Purdy is surrounded by a good team and he knows it. When interviewed, he’s all about We, never I. Not bad for a young man drafted last, earning him the quirky nickname, Mr. Irrelevant. What I liked is when playing the Seahawks, he caught the attention of Lebron James, who captured him perfectly on Twitter. “PURDY GOT GAME!!!!!!!!!”

No More Mr. I Guy

Not the greatest arm. Not the quickest on his feet.

Not a big guy either. But hey, a young man tough to beat.

Faith, Family, Football. Like many other players, he’s got it all.

And smart enough to know only with his team does he stand tall.

A year ago, the last pick in the draft.

But now the 49ers, who rolled those dice, have the last laugh.

Brock Purdy. Rookie QB leading an amazing run.

Another one of those guys who just gets the job done.

Mr. Irrelevant? Hahaha. Not anymore.

When you hear him talk, it is no more Mr. I Guy that you can sure.

Today, there are many stats to measure a player’s impact.

But, leave it to King James of NBA fame, to look beyond the numbers and say it best.

Purdy Got Game. A statement of fact. Above all the rest.

During the summer of 1995, I had the occasion to take a brief helicopter tour in Hawaii. Departing from the airport on Maui we had a perfect Birdseye view of the renowned resort destinations along the Kaanapali coast and the less traveled island of Lanai across the nine-mile ocean channel. However, it was on the far side of the third island, Molokai, where we could see the small array of buildings that housed the leper colony of Father Damien, more than a century earlier. Regarding my statement beginning with “The oldest of all lies”, I am making reference to the epic poem written by Milton during the 17th century regarding the fall of humankind in the Garden of Eden. From there I contrast it to the one word that is the foundation of the Christian faith. “Sacrifice.” With respect to my earlier reference to a place I would be “destined to know”, I am not speaking about the island or the colony, but rather a place of faith where the inhabitants once were and I now am, when any of us are challenged by the spectre of a potentially fatal long-term illness or disease. Likewise, the “vantage most high”, I identify near the end of the poem, is not one of mere flight but rather a renewed worldview elevated by my faith. Paradise Found. A retrospective look at a unique place in the history of faith, which when I first saw it as a tourist, was nothing more than a momentary curiosity.

On March 30, 2022, I began seven weeks of radiation, five days a week, for throat cancer. Three Sounds of Light describes what I experienced during a daily treatment, which lasted about ten minutes. I would lay on my back, my eyes closed under a mask that had been previously formed fitted to my likeness. It would press against my forehead, face, and neck when the technicians anchored it down to the table over my shoulders. Early on, I learned to distinguish between different sounds of the linear accelerator. Three separate segments, each about forty-five seconds in length, is when I would hear the distinctive high pitch of the stimulated emission of radiation. At those times, I would remain perfectly still, not swallowing and only breathing once or twice gently through my nose. After each appointment, I would drive myself back home, which was just under thirty miles away. Unable to eat or drink or even swallow without significant pain, my dedicated and caring wife would feed me, throughout the day and into the middle of the night, using a G-Tube which had been surgically inserted into my stomach two days before my treatments began.

I Desire is a metaphor, where the new song I wish to find, is actually me desiring a renewed view of my entire life. Because, I have long held to the belief that for anyone, true happiness begins when you establish continuity with your past. When you realize that every day, every event, every experience during your lifetime, the good, the bad, successes and failures, your virtues and vices, your words and works, were all necessary steps to where you are and who you are today. Once you accept this to be true, all that remains is to let go of every regret and resolve to live this day and every day forward with faith, forgiveness, and love. Because, there will come a time when your song, that is to say, your life, is written, recorded, and done. Just like mine.

Lady Witch and Little Mouse quickly came to life this past Halloween, when all it took was the delightful photos of my two beloved granddaughters, dressed in their costumes, for me to conjure up this endearing little story. Our first grader as a magical witch and her infant sister as a snuggly little mouse.

During the summer of 1995, I had the occasion to take a one hour helicopter tour in Hawaii. Departing from the airport on Maui we had a perfect Birdseye view of the renowned resort destinations along the Kaanapali coast and the less traveled island of Lanai across the nine mile ocean channel. However, it was on the far side of the third island, Molokai, where we could see from high above the small array of buildings that, more than a century earlier, was the leper colony of Father Damien. In the fourth stanza of this poem, I make reference to the many words of Milton, written during the 17th century regarding the fall of humankind in the Garden of Eden, and then contrast it to the one word that is the foundation of the Christian faith, which I reveal at the end of the fifth stanza.  With respect to my reference to a place "I was destined to know" in the third stanza, I am speaking not about the island or the colony, but instead the spiritual place where they were and I now am. Challenged, like so many others, by the spectre of a potentially fatal illness. Finally, the "vantage most high" I identify near the end of this poem is a reference to undying faith not a mere flight. Paradise Found is a retrospective look at a most unique place in the history of faith, which when I first saw it as a tourist, was nothing more than a passing curiosity.

Lady Witch and Little Mouse, a children’s poem that quickly came to life this past Halloween, 2022. When all it took was the delightful photos of my two beloved granddaughters, dressed in their costumes for me to then, shall I say, conjure up this endearing little rhyme. Our young grade schooler adorned as a magical witch and the baby as a snuggly little mouse!

On March 30, 2022, I began seven weeks of radiation, five days a week, for throat cancer. Three Sounds of Light describes what I experienced during any given treatment, each of which lasted about ten minutes. I would lay on my back, my eyes closed under a mask that had been previously formed fitted to my likeness. It would press against my forehead, face, and neck when the radiation technicians anchored it down to the table on both sides of my shoulders. During the sessions of the first week, I learned to distinguish between the different sounds of the Medical Linear Accelerator. Each time there were three separate segments of a treatment, each about forty five seconds in length, when I would hear the very distinctive high pitch of the stimulated emission of radiation. At those times, I remained perfectly still, not swallowing and breathing only once or twice, very shallow and gently through my nose. After each appointment, I would drive back home, about thirty miles away. Unable to eat or drink without significant pain, my dedicated and loving wife would, throughout the day and into the night, feed me through a G-Tube which had been surgically inserted into my stomach two days before my treatments began.