CONVICTED

As I shook his hand I knew

he wouldn’t shake his conviction.

He wouldn’t change his mind.

He was he and I was I -

and I wasn’t going to

change my mind.

I knew that. He knew that.

I knew he wouldn’t come back

to another meeting like this.

And as he walked away

I thought of other people

who have passed out

of my life like this.

Is it the way I say things?

Is it my convictions and

my inability to change?

He made me feel

like a kid selling lemonade

on the street - and it was

a cold day - anyway - and

everyone was walking by.

Being a priest can be tough stuff.

Better: being a person can be rough.

Best – being a Christian means

rejection - walking away - and the cross.

Wait a minute! Think for a moment.

Didn’t you know that? And besides

that, maybe he’s right and I’m wrong.

Hey, you never know.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2013

SIGN IN PLEASE

Just after I walked in,

I put a check next

to my name indicating,

“I am present.”

Then they began

the meeting

with a roll call.

I said, “Present.”

So I was surprised

when a piece of paper

was passed around

during the meeting

to sign one’s name

if one was present.

I signed – this making

it the third time I said

“I am present.”

But it had become

a blatant lie.
I was absent

from that meeting

from beginning to end.

And from where I was sitting,

so too were most of the

people in the room.

Has this ever happened to you?

“Ooops. That hurt when you said,

‘By the way, I've been 
at a meeting that you ran.'" 

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2013

LEAF

I was seven - just seven - just realizing -

what it means to be alive - getting

glimpses - unconscious glimpses -

that toy guns run out of caps or water -

and have to be refilled. I was just starting

to notice caterpillars and mosquitoes -

and outside my window so many

green leaves were waving to me in the wind.

All this happened in October.

Well, one day looking out my window -

I felt delight in noticing that all those

green leaves had slowly become gold,

orange, tan, red, yellow flags. While

watching all this I saw a leaf falling -

slowly spinning  down to the ground.

Wow! I ran outside to find it. Impossible.

Yet I found it. I picked it up

and brought it into our house.

I put it on the brown bureau in the

back bedroom my brother and I shared.

The next day, I could see

it was dead, really dead, dried, crisp -

just like very thin toast. Was outside

for a while and when I came in I noticed

my mother threw it out - without asking.

I guess falling, dying, drying up and

being dumped without my permission

is something I have had to learn

over and over again.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2013

   

THE BRIDGE

The bridge between us

across this silent room

is only 10 steps.

Yet, it seems,

we’re not willing

to pay the toll

to cross the bridge

to meet and be

sweet to each other

on the other side.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2013

SOUNDS

A wrench falling down onto the cement garage floor –

causing a pinging, clinging, lingering sound -

that lasts for a moment till it hides in the corner.

A piano … clink, clink, clink … the same note keeps

slinking out an open window 2 houses down 
            and into mine ….

Practice, practice.... Practice another note…. Please!

A bird keeps squeaking … shrieking … speaking  some very angry screams …. another bird must be invading her territory …. Too many discordant sounds can                      cause some very definite dislikes.

Just then I hear the front door opening …. A click….

I hear the sound of your step on the stairs.

Hurry, hurry! Sounds of you are not enough.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2013

IMPRESSIONISTIC PAINTING

Sitting here all alone - gazing down at two 

tall, thin, glazed glasses, with light pink

and blue straws – each straw slanting

the other way - away from me ….

Did I do something wrong?

Summer coolers … just sitting there -

one on a paper napkin with lipstick on it ….

I’m watching ice cubes melting ….

I’m seeing  thin streams of water crawling

down the outsides of the glasses ….

Strawberry – lime – orange –

cool summer drinks - just sitting there

on a bright white table cloth - covering

a heavy black metal clumsy, clunky table …

the kind that makes hard to move sounds …

grunts - when pulled along heavily

on the concrete ground. I’m  watching

the whole scene as if -  as if it was being

painted  - and this whole scene was a canvas - 

and I’m in the painting  - sitting here all alone

in the upper wrong side corner - all by myself?

Did I do something wrong?

My eyes followed a rich green grass lawn

that  lead down to the dock. Oh ….

I didn’t tell you. That’s where everyone was -

down there by the sail boat that just arrived -

carrying the newly wed couple back home

to see some of the family - some of the

old friends back here - back home -  those

who couldn’t make the wedding. It was

the scene - the painting I always pictured

would be mine with her. But, he isn’t me.

Did I do something wrong?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2013

THE HEART 

OF THE  MATTER 

The air conditioner is letting me know

it’s working. It’s pushing, pushing.

It’s keeping me cool on this muggy

hot, humid day. It’s not quiet.

The car motor is letting me know

it’s running. It’s turning, turning.

It’s keeping me moving on this trip

back home. It’s not quiet.

However, my heart is not letting me know

it’s working. Yet it’s pumping - pumping.

It’s keeping me going this day so far.

Thanks God. But both of you are quiet….

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2013