1) I do not believe in objectivity. I do not trust subjectivity. This creates a dilemma, for if objectivity is impossible and subjectivity inadequate, what can I ever hope to see?

2) If words are distractions from meaning, how do I explain myself without destroying myself in the process?

3) If ego is merely a guest, who owns the home in which it abides?

4) If one sees oneself in a mirror, in how many pieces has the image been shattered?

Marathoner’s Prayer

When death becomes a commonplace,
An all too familiar face leering at us from our
Television screens, news reports, magazines; when
Evil wails our national anthem with sinister grin and
Wild abandon–

What hope remains? Do we turn to God, some far-off
Being, supposed to care, all-knowing, all-seeing, who
Must have known and might have acted? Should this not have attracted
His attention? Was he not aware? Does he care? Is
He there?

We share our doubts, to be counted out and set
Aside, left to cry as the world has always cried: into its
Sleeve. Leave the
Answers to the holy ones: evil belongs; the end has come. So watch and pray. And
At the end of the day
Nothing changes…

I beg you: look me in the eye and
Understand. We live and die together, whether or not
We know it. My life is yours, yours is mine, and in that bond we define
The divine, not external, internal. We face the infernal as one tissue, one body,
However shoddy it may feel. This is Real–
The ordeal, the struggle to become. We are dead; we are living; the space
Between forgiving and forgetting is the moment we inhabit. So grab it and
Refuse to let it go. In the insistence, in the instant of
Lies redemption, resolution,


Healing from the reeling sorrow, from the pain,