My First Purchase

The first item I remember purchasing
with my own $10
was an utter disappointment.

The commercials pitched it as
one exhilerating adventure
after another.

To my surprise and dismay,

it was just a small plastic set of
figurines,

not from

a long time ago

in a galaxy far, far away,

but from China.

And apparently,

the fanfare,
special effects,
and nerdy friends

advertised in the commercial
were sold separately,
presumably also
manufactured in China.

I've held onto it for
two decades,
partly out of nostaliga,
I suppose,
and part pack rat,
and later,
part reminder of the chicanery of the
marketing establishment
and my own resolve to resist such.

But,
Pete saw it a while back
and wanted to play with it.

The way he
animated the characters and
lived and relived the conflicts
on this tiny world
weighted it with such import
that I found myself
sucked into the narratvies
by its new-found gravitational pull -
playing as I suppose
I had imagined myself
to be able to play
when I had bought it:
Side-by-side with Wicket W. Warrick
on Endor.

I was surprised again
- though this time in reverse -
that the marketers hadn't
completely lied
in their depiction
of unabashed toy joy -
they'd just misrepresented,
and neglected to include in the instructions,
how to glean the maximum glee from it.

Despite this gross oversight,
I've decided to take the high ground
and not sue.

A Kite Line

When we stepped into the backyard,

My son, Pete, and I,

With the kite,

My wife, Kim, warned us,

"Don't get it caught in the tree."

Now that you know

How this story will end,

Let me fill in a few details

And the inevitable
Deeper
(or in this case, Higher)
Meaning.

We really flew it quite well,

Avoiding the tree during gusts

By stepping swiftly aside,

Until Pete had the idea

To fly it atop the playset,

Which was too close to the tree

And too fenced in

To allow for any quick maneuvers,

But 30 minutes of successful kite-flying

Had made us arrogant

And perhaps a bit hungry for danger.

It caught first on a side branch

From what I unsuccessfully tried

To convince Kim was a freak wind.

I didn't know whether to pull tight
And risk breaking the line,
Or to let loose
Risking further entanglements.

Either option seemed
Equally likely to produce both
Extremes of possible outcomes. 

I let loose,

And it went higher,

Eventually spider-webbing itself

Stickily into more branches,

At which sordid moment

I did what any self-respecting

English major would do:

I started composing this poem

And took some pictures
To accompany it.

Yes, it's still in the tree.

Thanks for asking.

Once upon a time,

My dad told me,
Several years after the fact,

Of how a sibling of mine

Had become a bit
Tangled,

Not terribly bad,

Just a bit.

And he contemplated reining in with terror,
Controlling and constricting

Until immediate safety was secured

But the long-term,
Thread-thin at times,
Father-child relationship almost certainly severed.

He said he had felt,
Upon praying about it,

That his only hope,

His only link

Was that kite-line-thin love.

So, he just held it,
Firm and present,
But not forceful,

And that sibling's soaring fine now.

But if our muddled up efforts

Still result in the 50/50 chance of getting
Even more stuck

50 feet up,

There's always the route

Pete keeps exhorting me to take
But my manliness keeps
Preventing me from pursuing:

Call the fire department - 

They'll don their red gear,
Cross town,

Raise themselves up on that tree,

And descend back below 

To allow that kite to rise up again,
All for free,
I believe. 

Now, if I could only remember
Their number...

Walking on Water

With the story

Of Peter walking on water,

We often think of the lesson

Learned by his falling into the sea,

Becoming afraid of the storm

And taking his eyes off the Lord.

And indeed,

It's good to learn

From others' failures.

But what about his reasons and success?

After all, he's the second

And only other person

Besides Christ

In the history of the world

To walk on water.

I always wondered why he asked

The Lord to bid him to come to him -

Was it because he wanted to walk on water, too?

Was it because he just wanted to be with the Lord?

I think it might be because

He felt safer standing on the surface of even a tempestuous sea with the Savior

Than he did sticking with the standard style of sea stability during storms in his day.

There was no commandment for Peter -
And is none for any of us -
To walk on water,
To do something
No one has done before,
Especially something that breaks
Some previously perceived physical law or
Limit to human capacity.

But he still did it.
Some mix of personal motive
And the Spirit's prompting.

So, perhaps,
When our own storms rage
Or when we insert ourselves in the storms of others
Either out of stewardship or friendship,
Perhaps we should
Abandon the ship
Of conventional certitude
About what the problem and/or solution is,
Espying where the Savior is
And striving for his position
No matter how precariously impossible
It may appear to reach
Or stay
There.

Not being bound by laws of nature or norm -
But not breaking them either -
Only
Transcending.

And, inevitably,
We'll fall short.
But isn't that what Christ
Is there fore?

Saying, "Come,"
And then saving us
When we falter.

Matthew 14: 22-23