The Sights, Scents and Sounds of Further On
the soft, steady drizzle muffled the cacophony of sounds
as i ran through the streets of the old city
the scents and sights seemed magnified
shrouded by the canopy of grey
all the senses washed over me like a nostalgic flood
the intoxicating confederate jasmine on the iron gates
mingled with the aroma of countless restaurant kitchens
the Civil War cannons i climbed as a toddler
the clatter of horse hooves on cobblestone
(the smell of horse urine on the street)
Dad’s favorite house on the Battery
with black men fishing nearby at the rail
tennis courts at Colonial Lake
where i had countless matches with countless friends
the historic churches, in many i had preached & served
the “secret” and serene places
where i would meditate, pray, wrestle and dream
the schools, neighborhoods, beaches, the merchant ships
the friends, colleagues, family, tourists, and the traffic!
i have migrated back to my earthly home for just a few days
and you might think that i am home sick
this may be true but not the way one might think
returning to this place is a journey into yesterday
woven into my DNA, shaping much of my life & calling
in my more vain & fleshly moments i may envy those
who now call this place home
and there is great refreshing in a temporary retreat
but deep in my spirit there is a knowing
a still small voice…“this is not the home you long for”
i have not been called to yesterday but to eternity
and it is a great travesty for me to mistake
the shadow for the substance
the sacramental element for the reality beyond
but as i love the sacrament for what it points to
i love this flawed, imperfect, scarred, proud, holy city
for where it has led me
its sights, sounds and scents
do not create longing for a return “home”
they are but earthly signs that broadcast to my soul
“there is a fragrance you have not known,
a resonance you cannot comprehend,
a splendor you have yet to behold”
some that have gone before us have had glimpses
their words – inadequate or incomprehensible
wheel within a wheel, fragrant garden, river of fire, streets of gold,
no sun or moon just glory, myriads of myriads, Ancient of Days,
tree of life, marriage supper of the lamb, thrones, trumpets, sound of many waters
and on and on and on and on…
until that day, i celebrate this pilgrimage as sacrament
ever longing for the awakening moment
i will smell, hear, see, taste and touch
and know that I am home 4-19-12
