CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith for the Years of
Winter
The venerable Earl “Tank” Karr, Helen’s father, always
declared that March 1 was the first day of spring, and so in his honor…
There is a place upon the map
Not really worthy
To be called a place
Just a dot, a point
Like the point of a needle
Where angels dance
If they become confused
And forget that should dance
Upon the needle’s head
It is called the point of no return
For when a silver plane
High above the waves
Is closer to its destination
Than the place from whence
It sprang to air
There is no reason
To try turning back
Even if your engine sounds
Like some silly goose
That ate a rancid fish
There is no point in turning back
If you are closer to the end
Than the beginning
So why do we keep yearning
For returning
When we are past
The point of no return?
JRMcF
I tweet as yooper1721.
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