~ by Father Ron Camarda

People have told me that I can write. There was a time in my life when that kind of affirmation would nurture and fuel me. It really doesn’t any more. The most wonderful comment people can say to me about my writing, singing, celebrating Eucharist or leading prayer is that it helped them to pray deeper, reflect on life, or simply that they want to think about it just a little bit more.

I believe that my writing is like a painting of a nature scene or a photo of an amazing creature of our glorious world. I simply take a snapshot of what I see with the eyes of my heart and the eyes of my soul. As you know, I love to insert my photo pictures into this column. Two people can take a picture of the same subject, but one of them becomes an inspiring photo and the other inspires a yawn. Sometimes the picture itself can have some flaws, but there just happens to be something about some pictures that we want to savor. Just take a look at some of the pictures on Facebook. The photo is only a microsecond reflection of a subject…and that is only one of 3,600 seconds in one of 24 hours!

Sometimes I take a picture of something as if I were blind. Later when I see the picture, I see things for the first time. This is one of the reasons why I try to memorize the upcoming Sunday Gospel on Monday or Tuesday. After the discipline and hard work of memorizing is done, I begin to see things during the week that I have never seen before, even though I have known the Gospel passage by heart for over 20 years! Beloved we are always learning…always!

These two poems are basically two “photographs” of my mood that I took with my ‘camera’ pen when I paused during my walk on the beach (January 22 & 28). I hope you will be able to see the deeper colors we sometimes miss with our physical eyes and the rich colors of a soul.

Thanks for taking the time to journey to Kathryn Abbey Hanna State Park and Atlantic Beach for a few moments. Breathe in…… breathe out…….

1) Steady crash of waves

2) Long walk past sunset

3) Dropped my body down

Steady crash of waves

on shore

Windy cold sunny day

Birds fishing

Ships sailing

No clouds passing

Breathing…refreshing

Stop – silence

Breath – breathe

Exhale

Priest in waiting

and not

Will be assigned again

mixed blessing

Journey still among the tears of the desert

Wandering, searching, longing…

for God and my own soul

Lonely…but not

brisk wind on the

brink of bitterness… but not yet

I sit basking

stealing a few

rays of sunshine

surely not missed

Searching, scowering

my soul and heart

for words to express

mysteriously inexpressible

soul tear

tear soul

in

solitude

and solely alone

Not bad

breath

broken

breathing

Long walk past sunset

January in North Florida

Atlantic Coast

Orange and peach streak to the south

on the beach

Gulls nibble on long dead shells and jellyfish

Darkening sky looking East

Gray clouded and crowded sky

to the West

and Above

Meat of this moment…

Alone, but not

Edge of the sea

Roar of the ocean:

actually more of a cranky gurgling gentleness

Cruise ship slips out the jetty

heading south

with lots and lots of lights

Beautiful from a distance

beginning of a cruise

hectic

trying to make fun

Me?

Being loving just standing on the edge of darkening light…

…o my!

Beloved, three years ago on January 23, 2008 I presided at the Mass of Resurrection for Greg Pittman (Susi’s beloved husband and Seana’s daddy). The following is a picture I took with my pen…but it hasn’t faded. Indeed the colors have intensified!

Dropped my body down

on the dock extending out on the river.

Subtle sun plunging behind the clouds

yet splashing glorious colors onto the clouds and sky.

So tired, fell asleep, gentle sounds all around:

flop of fish,

barely perceptible appearance of a turtle head,

chirp of birds and also twit and tweet

gentle lap of water tapping the shore

and then awoken from this cacophony…

I spy an otter slipping in and out of the water surface

The tail of the otter seems to slip

into the black water in secretive and mysterious silence

My beloved brother Greg was celebrated today at the Sacred Eucharist

And then laid to rest in San Lorenzo,

with my Mom and brother priests

and Sisters of the diocese

+ JAMES GREGORY PITTMAN

pink swirls and full gray color mesmerize me

until the cool to cold air

cause me to wrap up

my writing and peaceful visit to the end of the dock.

No worry – I need not covet

for one day I will put more than my toe

into the forever horizon of

.

LOVE!

Joy and Peace,

Father Ron Moses +

www.tearinthedesert.com

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