Threads of Thinning Faith

MOUNTAIN MOMENTS OPENING

A DAY AFTER DESCENDING

ON BICYCLE, RIDING

WITH QUESTIONS OF FAITH

My brother, who has taken to filling his days

running errands, stops with three grandchildren

to play me one gospel song that helps

him sleep. He closes his eyes

singing to his departed wife

while I get three boys honey and crackers.

When the doorbell rang

I put down Meng Hao-jan's

Mountain Poems, 689-740 C.E.,

Meng called them My Mountains,

searching for Ch'an Abbot Clarity-Deep,

this line triggering a letter from old friend:

I heard the unborn inner pattern young

and always practiced seeing through self...

continuing the ruggedness of the way. Amen

to that I say to self. Threads of faith,

my friend writes, Thin threads of faith.

Bicycle tires spinning, I'm trying

to remain upright too,

and on this road. How did Jesus

hang on with John the Baptist

in his head? Do you guys know about John?

I ask my nephews. Wild man

who ate wild honey dipped in grasshoppers!

Sit down. I'll get you crackers and honey

right now. Sit at the table. Do you like honey?

All this in the time it takes

to listen to Amazing Grace: Meng Hao-jan,

Jesus, John, my friend, my brother.

Me, those three boys, the inner pattern.

Jim Bodeen
6 December 2018