We laughed

nothing is as the slow sun rising in winter, pastel light fading in like the opening of Gorecki's Symphony Number 3
viewed through the frozen limbs of the oak and pecan trees revealing shape, design, patterns.

at 5:00 I walked out an checked on one of our cats who insists on living in the shed now where we have made her a haven
cat bed on old chair with blankets and a space heater for the frigid nights, water bowl, food, and freedom, she was fine and purred as I rubbed her head

Black Coffee with Cinnamon in my Pablo mug made from the Yocona Mississippi clay just 6 miles from here, the Potter from Spain
He wore leather boots like something Davy Crockett might have worn with leather straps dangling from around his knees, be like Pablo..

Pablo looks like an actor from a Fellini film, not just an actor, but the star of a Fellini film, a humble man who works harder than anyone I know
I found two books by Guy de la Valdene at Square Books and was facing at the register when Pablo stuck his finger in my side, "Give me all your money!"

I told him it would not take long and we laughed.

wkm
Oxford

Why Not?

I thought I had nothing to say this time but here is a collection of words:
sometimes the sound of leaves crunching beneath my boots in the winter dawn stirs my soul

The Deer know when to hide and when to be seen much like some people you know
Farther on down the line walking on a trail through the east section, the wind howling, 31 degrees.

I am not sure of anything except that I am not sure of anything, along with the the taste of garlic and olive oil
The stew is in the crock pot, i call it "Continuation Stew", it began as beef stew two days ago, now it has lentils and Andouille sausage

One carton of organic Beef Broth with one purple onion diced, a full flower of garlic, Olive oil, salt, pepper, cayenne, carrots..
the rue from last night, garlic salt, black eyed peas for the New Year, Yukon Gold potatoes,Guinness..chunks of sirloin.

Hemingway captured seasons well, but Rick Bass's journal, "Winter"is my choice for the cold days ahead.
Faulkner loved Paris and Paris loved Faulkner....I heard they love Larry Brown too..I wonder if Larry ever went to Paris.

I am surrounded by happiness and it is beginning to seep through the cracks of my melancholy, filling me with light
A new year to be new..to laugh harder.,to help..to forgive..to release..to step closer to the sweet mystery of Sweet Detachment

why not?

wkm
Oxford

Hunt

I am becoming a fan of French music, accordion, waltzes, Notre Dame, frittas, Beaujolais..
today sitting in a tree-stand with a rifle i thought of truffles and the French countryside my wife and I visited years ago in Burgundy

Although it not wise while hunting deer, i played some French music at very low volume on my Iphone..
A large Murder of Crows argued in the distance and played in the pallid sky just over the tree tops

I read poetry by Jim Harrison and an article in The Rolling Stone about George Harrison,"The quiet Beatle".
The view I had at 20 feet up in a tree was canvas like..."colors vivid like Van Gogh"..

I have not shot an animal since I was a teenager, and even then my aim was questioned.
The only hunting I have somewhat excelled in as an adult is the pursuit of Quail, which are almost extinct in Mississippi, due to pesticides used in crop dusting..

My son was a few hundred yards away in his own tree, waiting with his 21 year old hope for a huge Buck to appear..
He is my pride and joy and thus why I am sitting in the tree stand and finding it incredibly wonderful and cleansing

I love being back in Mississippi for good...and knowing that i don't have to leave Monday...dadgum, what a lesson learned..
I shouldered the rifle and climbed down the ladder, walked out into the woods to see a man about a dog, peace..

wkm
Oxford MS

Home

I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my days
I am no longer facing a relentless man manufactured anxiety

Yes, the "normal" anxieties continue and God bless them
But the twisted encumbered suspicion from the insecure brain is lying in the dust again

But "we wrestle not against flesh and blood" a famous Saint once said..
We know the demons within, the hypocrisy within, the sinner within..very very well..

As I drove home yesterday for the last time, hallelujah, I sang along with Mick Jagger..
"Please to meet you, won't you guess my name?!" I knew what he was talking about..

God is not exactly what we think He is...He is more, Jesus tried to show us.. He is more loving and more merciful than we know..
And then I realized that the "insecure brain" is not any worse than me at all, I am just as insecure in my own way

So, as I love being home for good, and love being with my wife, my son, his girlfriend, my dogs...
I am just thankful..simple as that..thankful for the journey..

I wish peace for Scott, Mark, Marcus, Cedric, Micheal, Andy, Arron, Andrew, and whoever I am forgetting..
cause the cross is for every dang one of us, and that is the only hope we wanderers have..

It is so good to be home.

wkm
Oxford MS HALLELUJAH!

That Lonesome Whistle

I understood her words clearly, and then I took out the trash
The dog Maggie, our house guest, followed me to the door and stopped when she saw it was raining

Do you think the earth remembers anything done to it over the years?
I have been on a horse in a section of woods not ridden in over a year and the horse noticed a tree missing, halting to inspect the vacancy.

If failing is such a bad thing why do so many of us get to experience it?
Success is finding the cork to go back in the bottle

Isn't it peculiar that the baby Jesus lived in obscurity till he was 30 years old, walked around 3 short years, forgiving whores and tax collectors, known as a wine "bibber", then died a criminal? Paul made it clear that if he didn't rise from the grave, believers are the king of fools

I walked out this morning with my scarf around my neck,  wondering where the road is going
Roads are like.. roads. They are built to get you from one place to another..nobody ever built a road to nowhere on purpose.

I am thinking of making seven New Year's resolutions this time..1. stop complaining, 2. Grow my own vegetables, 3. help out more often, 4. Write a book of poetry, 5. Drink more water, 6. Eat less, 7. Go to daily Mass. Seven things to move the train on a little farther down the line..far from useless self pity of the past year...and I'll let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away..

wkm
nashville, one more night

Swaddling CLothes?

 

Sick for Christmas makes one grateful for socks instead

I wonder if Jesus, Mary, or Jospeh caught cold while they were away in a manger

 

We watched a film last night and one character was such a pain in the ass

At one point I blurted out, "What a know-it -all jerk!", upon which my lovely wife said, "You can be that way sometimes."

 

OWWW! Sting! Pain in my ego! Yet after I weakly disputed her through pitiful coughs and hurt feelings,

I knew she must be right..and I started feeling worse remembering what Shakesphere said, "What thou hatest most, thou copiest best"

 

(I am not sure if Shakesphere said this, it was probably Frued or Kant...

but it sounds better with Shakepshere's toungue, wit and tamber)

 

I often wonder about days after big events, like Christmas, Easter, Hannakuh, the Super Bowl, The World Cup.

you know, the day after..What did Joseph do after that night of Angels, Shepherds, Wise Men..etc.?

 

Did he go out and find a warm place indoors to stay for a while?

Did Mary suggest they stay with some cousins while the census was being taken?

 

They wrapped Jesus in swaddling clothes, a kind of mummy suit to keep him secure and warm..

God wrapped in swaddling clothes, God.. it's crazy if you believe it isn't it? It's mind blowing to think about the implications.

 

Maybe it was a pre-cursor for when he would be wrapped in burial clothes 33 years from that moment..

And the whole manger thing, a feeding trough, laid in a feeding trough, he who said, I am the Bread of Life..our food.

 

wkm

Oxford Ms

Where's Rilke?

 

 

the Virgin

there is a sense of something coming tonight

one night away from the happening that has affected everything

 

Tradition says in St. Andrew's prayer that God was born at midnight

in the cold darkness of Bethlehem two thousand years ago to a young girl as pure as the falling snow

 

tonight in Mississippi where Choctaw once lived before we got here

shoppers are out using credit cards as if somehow believing in Jesus means prosperity, possibly?

 

When we walked in the woods this morning with Jack, Pig, and Maggie ( a dog we are taking care of)

We felt joy in the loneliness of the woods and trails we had never discovered before

 

Pecan crusted fried Brook Trout came very close to making me weep tonight

That and the white rice filled with crawfish and lobster it swam upon, I am a fan of art food

 

If you have never been to Oxford Mississippi on a winter's night please pray about it

One of our cats just came over to where I am writing this and lay down at my feet

 

I am still amazed at the beauty of the Virgin and her complete dedication to birthing this mystery Child

I have nothing against atheist or agnostics when we talk about this kind of stuff, it can all be accepted only by grace anyway

 

I am about to walk outside and look up at the winter stars

If you want o join me that would be fine.

 

wkm

Oxford MS, thank God.