July 27: Poem from "Kyrie," Clarence the Angel, Miracle Stroll,

Poem from Kyrie

by:  Ellen Bryant Voigt

Around the house uneasy stillness falls.

The dog stiffens the ruff at her ears,

stands, looks to the backdoor, looks to the stairwell,

licks her master's shoe.  What she hears

must be a pitch high on the Orphic scale,

a light disturbance in the air,

like flicks of an insect's wings or a reed's whistle

distant and brief:  he barely stirs.

Out in the kitchen something seems to settle--

cloth on a dish, dust on a chair?

The animal whimpers now but doesn't growl:

this absence has a smell.

                                              Poor master,

it's touched him too, that shift in molecules,

but all he feels is more of what's not there.

________________________________________

This poem really is all about absence, felt by a dog and house and person.  As Clarence the angel in It's A Wonderful Life observes, "Strange, isn't it?  Each man's life touches so many other lives.  When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?"

Today, I went for a walk.  Not my normal walk around the town where I grew up.  I walked around the city where I work and teach.  I explored streets and avenues, took pictures of old buildings, and watched a caterpillar crawl along a wall.  I did this because my wife was working late, and I had a telephone therapy session.  So I was walking, talking, avoiding crowds, and sharing some very difficult subjects about my life.

By the end of the session, I'd walked about four miles, and was emotionally exhausted.  Among other things, I was thinking about Clarence's comment.  I think everyone has probably contemplated what the world would be like without them in it.  Questioned what they've really contributed to the universe.  It's only natural to contemplate this question occasionally.  I thought a lot about it this evening.  What kind of hole I would leave.

I didn't really come up with an answer to that question on my walk.  But I was gob-smacked by a lot of gorgeous architecture (mostly churches) and wonders of nature.  When confronted by so much beauty, it makes you feel connected when you've been feeling disconnected.  Like somehow you are a part of something really huge and important, instead of being small and insignificant.  That saved me tonight.  It was a miracle stroll.

And for that, Saint Marty gives thanks.