fire and glass and more Lyle

inspired by this blog post, I left this comment...

wildest dreams ... to heal and become whole. and it may just be beautiful if not horrific in origin ... thinking about fire, houses, lives, smoke, volunteers, neighborhoods, and glass. may not be a sermon, but just may be a blog post that percolated yesterday.

I found it ironic, that five hours after the fire trucks left my street, I was standing in my favorite museum. A museum which would be nothing, if not for fire.

I hand the camera to Mosaic Woman and say, "I am going over there, take some photos..."

and so I hope and pray and watch as the not so damaged houses get cleaned, and I walk across the street to listen to my neighbors tell their story, when they emerge with the light of day from where they scatter to at night. and as I moved through my life, another song covered by Lyle Lovett comes out of the place, where it had been resting inside my brain...

If I needed you would you come to me
Would you come to me, for to ease my pain
If you needed me I would come to you
I would swim the sea, for to ease your pain.

Well, the night's forlorn and the morning's born
And the morning's born with the lights of love
And you'll miss sunrise if you close your eyes
And that would break my heart in two.

If I needed you would you come to me
Would you come to me, for to ease my pain
If you needed me I would come to you
I would swim the sea, for to ease your pain.

Baby's with me now since I showed her
How to lay her lily hand in mine
Who could, I'll agree she's a sight
To see a treasure for the poor to find.

If I needed you would you come to me
Would you come to me, for to ease my pain
If you needed me I would come to you
I would swim the sea, for to ease your pain

...

thoughts on animal communication... of crows and men

Every so often, I hear a student calling out like a crow. I leave my classroom. Frederick Buechner tells his story in his books. He believes it leads to healing. I agree.

Back when I was a bit of a punk, I watched birds. One thing it has told me about myself is that I am a visual learner. Maybe I have an auditory memory issue, but I just have had a terrible time associating calls with birds. There are exceptions.

There is a call which crows make when they encounter a hawk. Other crows come and together they do the best to make the hawks life miserable. as I explained to one of my zoology students...

OK, if a friend of yours was being threatened and they sent out a text message to the masses that led to you and others to come flocking. You would be behaving like a crow. This afternoon, when you go into homeroom, if your teacher makes a loud caw caw caw noise, and I come over to see how I can help. You will deserve an A in this class.

every so often, I am called by my student to visit the classroom. I think it may amuse him to have such power over me. However, I know it is not an emergency. The tone is not of distress. Our brain is wired to associate pitches with meanings. That is how we communicate with others and with dogs. A whine is clearly not a growl.

What I heard the other night as a family screamed in horror is a tone that haunts me. What I heard yesterday heals me.

The man, who once helped me to fix a flat tire, and his wife had come to check on their house. It turns out the couple with little girls are still their neighbors, but now in the hotel rooms supplied by the Red Cross.

...

trying to imagine these empty porches

A porch was on our wish list when we finally decided to buy a house. We found a street filled with them. These porches fill up when a summer thunder storm stops the flow of electricity or when trick-or-treaters in the hundreds storm down our street. Across the street the porches are scarred.

Yesterday I walked across the street and extended my hand to a man, whose three daughters fill these porches with play. Today as I left the house to run errands, I saw the woman who sits on her porch reading.

I walked across the street and listened to her story. "May you never experience such a thing... " She starts the conversation with a blessing.

She came home late that evening and smelled smoke. Now she runs through the what ifs... if only I had... if only I had...

The night of the fire, I watched as the policeman smashed through her front door. Apparently I had left the window when he carried her out preventing her bare feet from being cut by the glass.

She invited me to enter her house, but I declined, then she shows me a tie rack and a song comes to mind. I will never tell someone who has lost material objects that they are only things...

As I listen to Lyle Lovett sing, I wish I had stepped inside that house...

That picture hangin' on the wall
Was painted by a friend
He gave it to me all down and out
When he owed me ten
Now it doesn't look like much I guess
But it's all that's left of him
And it sure is nice from right over here
When the light's a little dim

Step inside my house Babe
I'll sing for you a song
I'll tell you 'bout where I've been
It shouldn't take too long
I'll show you all the things I own
My treasures you might say
Couldn't be more'n ten dollars worth
But they brighten up my day

Here's a book of poems I got
From a girl I used to know
I guess I read it front to back
Fifty times or so
It's all about the good life
And stayin' at ease with the world
It's funny how I love that book
And I never loved that girl

Hold this piece of glass
Up to the light comin' through the door
It's a prism glass I found on the road
Can you see that little rainbow
Well it's not really a prism I guess
It just broke in a funny way
I found it on my way from Texas
Headed for L.A.

This guitar was given me
By old man Thomas Gray
It's not too much to look at
But I pick it every day
It's been across the country
Four or five times I guess
Between me and old man Tom
It never got much rest

Well that's about all I own
And all I care to I guess
Except this pair of boots
And that funny yellow vest
And that leather jacket and leather bag
And hat hangin' on the wall
Just so it's not too much to carry
Could I see you again next Fall