Archive for 1983

1983-11-18 Gerda

Friday, November 18th, 1983

Gerda

What magic with this woman
that such a current of humaness
runs thru us together
that we lock into our perceptions
and feelings together
and with laughing eyes
within the trust born of deep knowing
we mingle, spirit to spirit,
like warm hands,
like family,
like children of God.

gallagher
18 nov 83
– at Gerda’s


— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1983-12-02

Friday, December 2nd, 1983

Ah, Bhagwan and Buber … mystics all
you’ve made my life so immesurably rich.
When I think of the joy you’ve opened for me
the feeling you call prayer fills me
until my skin melts into the feelings I am.
I have some small light that’s begun to shine
until smiles press from inside from secret places
and moments burn with searing baeuty.
And I know that here where I stumble,
you’ve gone, thank you.

gallagher
02 dec 83

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1983-12-19

Monday, December 19th, 1983

Dave said it today…
Pictures of starving children
our cupboards full of non-essential luxuries.

So what can such as we do
to stem this world’s insanities?

Each week more money and energy flow thru our hands
than many people in the third world see in a lifetime.

This moment…THIS moment, someone starves
some child cries out in that utter well of despair
that only the young and innocent of this world have to bear.
That endless moment of terror
that waits without cause or remorse
to prey on their young lives
crushing their attempts to understand and be loved
staining their innocence and corrupting their trust.

Generations turning like wheels, children issuing forth
into war and poverty, sickness and pain
and sometimes, …sometimes into love.

More than our imaginations could hold or our hearts believe
they live in far away places where people
are different and, somehow, less real.
Our perceptions of these places lost between
the stock market quotations and furniture sales.

My Chris is four and when he hugs me and says, “I love you.”
the love and cherishing wash thru me so poignantly
He knows he’s loved and safe and secure
and his love and innocence can burn in their full flowering.
He lives in this world we’ve made him
between his naps and meals and tickling
and being told he’s a good boy.

He grows strong and whole, here.

Can he really be living in a world where people are gambled
for money and power?

gallagher
19 December 1983

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —