AT THE END OF THE DOCK

We stood there together,
alone at the end of the dock,
out over the water.

Two dolphins glided by together,
laughing – gliding inches above the water –
out for what looked like an evening jog.

You were watching a Styrofoam cup
in an oil slick – floating – but going
what seemed like nowhere.

We stood there together,
alone at the end of a long conversation,
seeing that we see so, so differently.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

KALEIDOSCOPE

He was so, so different from
the rest of us. He thought in splashes –
splashes of words, splashes of color,
quick dashes and laughs of thought.
Most of the time he would sit there
quietly listening, watching, figuring.
Then when he had a light or insight –
he would sometimes tell us with he saw.
His eyes and smile would burst
and erupt – first with guttural sounds –
like from a kid strapped in the backseat
of a car or in a high chair at supper
banging a spoon on a plate.
He saw with Kaleidoscope patterns.
He saw the world around us in ways
we didn’t. It wasn’t till years later
I realized he had the gift Jesus had,
“Anyone who does not welcome
the kingdom of God like a little child
will never enter it.”* God I want that gift.

* Mark 10:13-16

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

WONDERING ABOUT

THIS MARRIAGE?

Wondering about this marriage
in the night. Is this every marriage?
Wondering whether this will last?
Wondering what more I could be doing?
Wondering whether every couple comes to this point?
Feelings: being stuck, stalled, oh, so so the same.
Question: would it be the same for both of us
if we both of us had married another?
What’s next? What now, Lord?
You’re being quiet again.
Okay, I understand.
You’ve never been here.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

REALITY THERAPY

Some nights I can’t fall asleep
because I’m still stuck
in lingering conversations
from the day before, imagining myself
telling people what I didn’t tell them,
telling people what I’m really thinking,
telling people what I really want to say.

Somewhere in that dark night
I fall asleep. I see myself sailing way beyond myself,
sailing across unknown seas.
I see my Illiads and my Odysseys,
heading for new ports – escaping to places
where life is the way I dream it could be.

Suddenly the alarm screams
like a fog horn in the harbor.
I have to get out of bed
and do those everyday things
sailors need to do and then
pull up anchor and set sail for
a new day. Reality Therapy.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

ABOUT TIME


It was the first time
in a long time
that I had some time,
so it was a good time,
this time.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

GATE 43

Muffled commotions from the loudspeaker,
then the motions of people quickly standing,
gathering their children and their crayons,
telling me your plane just landed,
but my emotions were the loudest loudspeaker.
You’re almost here, almost home, almost.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

HOW LONG?

As we were walking around
the mile or so lake,
he was asking me questions.
Luckily I guessed he was really
talking out loud to himself.

“How long am I going to keep on
wallowing in my own mess?”

“How long am I going to keep
on repeating these same mistakes?”

“How long will it be before I can learn to

forgive myself for so much wasted time in my life?”

“How long do I want to sit
in my own s…?” It rhymed.

We were walking and walking.
He kept talking and talking.

We came to a beginning,
so I asked, “Do you want to walk
around the lake again?

He said, “Of course.
Thanks.”

And I said to myself,
“Well maybe by talking,
he was beginning to walk away from it all.”

Then the inner thought,
“I guess this is what friends are for….”

Then the afterthought,
“How long before I’ll be the one
walking in his shoes.”

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009