The Hand in Mine

 It started at the beginning 

as do most important things

You placed your finger

Into the palm 

Of my newly born hand

Instinctively, I closed my hand

For the first time of countless many

A father and his daughter held hands

 

Later, I would hold your hand

Finding support as I tottered about

Learning the difficult task

Striving to become

An independent walker

Even then, I held tightly

As you taught me 

My first lessons in ‘letting go’

 

After I mastered the walk

You held my hand

As we walked in parking lots

Or crowded markets and stores

I always felt the protection

Of my hand inside yours

Even if I pretended to be ‘big’

Even if I protested uselessly

 

Times passes, Love grows

A love captures my heart

A question is ‘popped’

Date is reserved

Family and friends gather

Walking hand in hand

Dad places my hand into another

Another lesson in ‘letting go’

 

Countless occasions of joy or sorrow

I slipped my hand into his

To find the comfort

To find the protection

To find the guidance

To find the love

Others may offer

But there is no one like Dad

In his final days

Once again my hand in his

Sharing memories

Sharing the quiet as well

Preparing my heart

Still teaching

Inevitability leading the day

Once more, I’ll let go of his hand

There will be days still

I will feel his hand slip in mine

Support

Protection

Guidance

Love

From another place

Always Dad

For Staci

© Ron Simpson Jr.

September 26, 2020

Screaming

All day scurrying about in the world

Going hurriedly from one task to the next

Keeping my mind focused and tight

Then late when shadows stretch long

The tattered facade falls away at last

Things neatly hidden come out at night

In dreams

In my mind

Screaming

Screaming

I try to wear my best smile

As I am assailed with negativity

So many caught in its crushing delight 

Dropping random vitriolic fodder 

Piling up until my heart is filled

When my mind enters an uneasy respite

In dreams

In my mind

Screaming

Screaming

More with every post, tweet, or meme

Cramming in just a bit more hate

Charging wildly left and right

Measuring out derision and destruction 

Extinguishing candles along it’s path 

The darkness gobbles more light

In dreams 

In my mind 

Screaming 

Screaming 

In my dreams, I am

In my mind, I am

Screaming

Screaming

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

September 24, 2020

Times like these

A peaceful morning

On iron and wood

Sometimes speaking

Sometimes listening

It’s times like these

I’m building in memory

Enjoying a simple meal

With light conversation

No life changes made

No life lived discussion

It's times like these

Which will carry me

Spending precious time

Just in the same room

Jigsaw puzzles and knitting

No need for laborious words

It’s times like these

I’ll miss often

Making silly jokes

Laughing at ourselves

Not the time for introspect

Not life contemplation

It’s times like these

Which will visit me most

Worshiping together

Praying together

Singing together

Learning together

It’s times like these

Which will strengthen me

Life is short

You can blink

And you’ll miss it

So, hold tightly

To times like these

Keep them safe

It’s a lifetime

Of times like these

Which make a life

Times like these

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

July 31, 2020

Captured by the distant horizon

In the midst of the turmoil 

(This tumultuous thing called life)

We may find ourselves, defensively 

Scanning the distant horizon

It is not entirely unexpected 

In this continuous news cycle

Bombarded every minute 

Updated every hour, every day

Our eyes darting constantly

Toward any flicker on the horizon

Searching cautiously expectant

For any respite of good news

To break up the words and images

Of death, of unrest, of violence

Of vitriol, of racism, of hatred

Of the petulance of those leading

Somewhere out there beyond

There must be better answers

There must be clarity and light

Yet, daily, the darkness reigns

On this side of the horizon

Hope is languishing, wounded 

By the sting of the sheer numbers

A barrage of poison tipped arrows

Vigilantly, we stand with eyes straining

Scanning the invariably changing horizon

Seeking one reason to believe again

This is the last vestige of our hope

But, this is also our failure

For, in focusing intently on the future

We have slowing lost sight of now

With all of its belief and reason

We are captured by the distant horizon

Today, not some far-off indifferent horizon

Not the malnourishment of countless prospects

This precise moment, not a cloudy future

This is what we need to feed our souls

There will always be possibilities abounding

However, right now we are surrounded by hope

We are compassed by the throng

Those living their daily lives, in spite of doubt

Of course, keep scanning the horizon

Yet, look around you to see glimmers of dreams

See the feet of those still marching

See the hands of those still helping

Hear the words of those still speaking

Then, add your feet, your hands, your voice

Become the light breaking across someones horizon

Be the hope 

Be the possibility 

Be the horizon

© Ron Simpson Jr.

August 1, 2020

 

The Decision

This was one

Of the hardest decisions 

I’ve ever had to make

You lingered

Between who you were

And where you prepared to go

I thought I was making the choice

Between keeping you here

(Purely selfish on my part)

Or letting you go to the place

You have spent most of your life

Getting prepared to live eternally

We were supplying your breath

And could continue to do so

It was life sustaining 

Although medically artificial 

You didn’t speak

You didn’t laugh

You didn’t reveal

The presence or absence 

Of the normal fire in your eyes

You breathed mechanically

Your heart kept beating

We collectively hoped

You were still in there 

Somewhere

But

There was a decision 

Which was required 

To keep you here

Or to let you go

Rationally

I knew the answer

Long before my heart knew

Or at least before it accepted

Then I realized

The real choice

Was to take you

Out of my hands

And place you 

In His hands

We discussed it as a family 

But it really wasn’t a discussion 

It was more of a confirmation 

Saying out loud what our hearts knew

The decision, still impossibly hard

Was to put you in His hands

It was the decision you had made

More than forty years earlier

Before the end of the next day

You made your journey with Him

While I would have loved you being here

And sharing these last thirteen years

I’ll still stand by your decision 

A decision we honored in your final days 

Thanks for making the decision 

Thanks for taking it out of my hands 

I still miss you, Dad

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

August 31, 2020

Lessons Learned

“A date which will live in infamy”

From FDR speech 

Following the attack on Pearl Harbor, 

On the isle of Oahu, Hawaii

I am amazed at the difference

In the lessons learned

By different people

From one catastrophic event

Some look at 9/11

And see the lesson of fear

Some see the lesson of vigilance 

Other see the lesson of readiness

Some learned hated

While others merely added to theirs

Oh, I did see the danger of hatred

Even more so, the danger of a seething rage

Born of a seed of hurt, real or imagined

Planned or accidental, a seed left to germinate

I prefer the lessons I learned

In the midst of overwhelming fear

I learned the power of community 

In the growing ‘us against the world’ attitude

I learned the lesson of globalism

In the face of despair and dispiritedness

I felt the encouragement of the world

You can hold on to the hatred

I'll hold on to the hope

You can cling to the fear

I’ll still grasp at the courage

You can live in the angst

I will walk with serenity

You can look for the differences

I’ll look for our commonalities

I will hold the lessons I learned

In the faces of 9/11

© Ron Simpson Jr.

September 11, 2020

I, With Privilege

I, accepting of all

Beholding color

But not seeing it

Beholding gender

But not regarding it

Beholding orientation 

Sexual or otherwise

But not judging it

I, striving for fairness

I, of privilege born

You know,

The right color

The right gender

The right time

Afforded as a right

As others call privilege 

I, not asking

But not denying

Education

Born of privilege 

Opportunities 

Born of the same

Expectations

Driving me upward

Never equally given

Simple motivation

Still a privilege 

Of my choice-less birth

I, unable to stop

Being white

Being male

Being straight

What can I do

I must use these

To shine a light

To make a difference 

To bring a change

I, with a voice

Speaking out

And saying the names

You know them well

I, with hands

Raising them

In defense

Of the oppressed

I, with feet

Marching

Stepping out

Stepping up

I, with privilege 

Can not refuse 

To see

To hear

To act

I, with privilege

Must be the difference

I, with privilege 

Must bring the change

Because, only I

With privilege 

Can 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

September 3, 2020