Resting in my apartment in Berkeley,

I scan the images and artifacts,

each a memory from the past.

Pictures of Richard and Elizabeth,

reminders of Ireland and New Zealand,

the Thomas Berry award,

photos of days in school:

grade school in Sombra,

classmates at St. Peter’s,

teammates in baseball

at Corunna, Wilkesport, Waubuno and Wallaceburg.


As I immerse my mind

in memories and portraits of the past,

My eye focuses

on the grandfather clock in the corner.


For a moment, I wonder about

the many 100-year stories it can tell:

stories of organic time when my ancestors lived,

their lives guided by the seasons, by dawn and dusk

by the creative wisdom of each emergent moment.

When we know our beginnings

and become aware of where we are now,

we are prompted by each new moment

calling us forward

into an as-yet-to-be-realized developmental future.