Archive for the ‘Places’ Category

1988-10-05 – A Reflection

Thursday, November 16th, 2023

Close your eyes
And place your hands together; as if in prayer.
Open your mind’s eye
and begin to see… and to feel…
we’re going to take a journey.

There is sunlight here that caresses your skin
and a breeze that pulls small feathers through your hair.

You are in the wheat fields of God’s love where,
just as the crops come and go,
so do the people rise and fall.

See the generations, tumbling forward,
one over another around you.
There are children, age, beauty
and death here.

Let your mind’s eye close again
and feel the warmth of your hands
still pressed together.
And let silence and being fill you…
and emptiness and light.

Then open your eyes and look again….
Here is the trusting child’s laughter.
And there, the warm brown skin of a woman.
And there… the eyes of a friend.


Children running through
the fields of flowers,
the couples loving each other
and the old people watching
it all with great compassion.
Feel the warmth
of the old person’s hand on your arm.

Gallagher
05 Oct 1988
Mexico City

– I was on my way into the Contra/Sandinista conflict in Nicaragua
with Witness For Peace to when I wrote this in Mexico City as we
were receiving orientation instructions. Each of us wrote a
reflection to read to the others. This was mine.

2023-05-20 – What it is

Tuesday, December 5th, 2023

There is what it is. Just one.

And those who choose to stay near it, rest near what it is.

And those who wander away can only come to more of what is not.

And, because it is what is not, it is more and more fraught with less than what it is.

What it is is not wonderful – it just is what it is – with all of its mortality, aging, meaninglessness and death.

Things cannot get better than what it is. Beyond what it is lies only dreams, illusions, hopes and fears.

2023-12-14 – Swinging doors

Friday, December 15th, 2023

Death is inevitable, and it isn’t so sad,
except that we cared.
Raised children, loved others,
and loved our lives.

I don’t think of my death, it doesn’t matter much
because I won’t be here.
But when I think of the richness of others,
it hurts.

All the years of caring, building, and loving,
swept away by the inevitability of mortality.
But I am just feeling what their loss means to me.
They won’t be here anymore.

Why should we care and persist
in a place of such implacable swinging doors?
But, we have no choice, mortal or not.
We love and feel and care, and we spend the time we have.

How then, to encourage the child who loves
and knows nothing of all of this?
How then, to love the people you love,
even as you feel time moving behind every moment?

Blessed and doomed, trusting and dead,
we are momentary bursts of awareness,
bits of lightning in an implacable darkness.
Is it any wonder that I both love and cry?

gallagher
14Dec23
Christchurch