Boston reverie

Wednesday AM

A walk in Brookline this morning while Vanessa sleeps in. Duct tape on the latch since I had no key. Such a clever chap. Cool and clear this morning after rain last night. Bright blue sky.

Around the reservoir at Boston College. Snow geese on the ball field. Dark ducks with white bills on the water, and at the far end, two ephemerally white swans. All feeding and indifferent to the pleasure I take in seeing them. All busy eating. The girls and boys running. More girls. Vivacious and serious in their athletic intensity. Pony tails flouncing and waving happily behind. All leggy in their shorts, or tight tushies in spandex second skin. Ah desire.

I desire a cup of coffee. it's conceivable, believable and achievable, as not all desires are. Tall buildings rising over the city downtown. Everything raised up with desire. All the busyness and striving. The buildings by the pond are lovely. Stately homes. Lovely stone buildings. Buildings rise and fall. People too, and ducks and geese and swans. Death enters. Of necessity. Everything just rolls over and keeps going.

It is different somehow with people though. We are so discontented. As if there is a goal that can be reached. As if dying was not part of it all along and could some how be vanquished through the excellence of our achievements. So we are compelled to cast away the shadow. To deny the dose of death and dissolution that comes to us every day with our name on it. It has to go somewhere. And it does. And we justify it saying. "It had to be done." The child had to starve. The well had to be poisoned. The bombs had to fall all over the city. The goal is so clear and necessary. The war must be won. And in the achievement of the goal we take pride.

And then there is Jesus, dying, looking down on all of us from the cross saying "Father forgive them."