And a few more...

"Timothy, He; Timothy, I"

He arrived on the southern side of Creete,
now called Gortyna, when his ship wrecked in 59 AD.
I arrived in Gortyna on a large chartered bus
this morning, October 24, 2007.

He came with Paul, his teacher.
I came with Susan, my tourguide.

He arrived wet and worn, and happy to be alive.
I arrived well-rested but also happy.

He carried whatever he could salvage,
perhaps a gospel scroll.
I carried my Lonely Planet traveler guide
printed on white paper and bound.

He wore sandals.
I wore Nikes.

His mother, Eunice, and his grandmother, Lois,
were known for their great faith.
My mother, Janet, and my grandmother,
Wilma, are known the same way.

Eventually, he moved on to Rome.
Friday, I fly to Athens.

Timothy, he.
Timothy, I.

Followers, belivers.
Both of us.



"e-Myth"

I passed the handsome couple around two.
Silently they sat at a street cafe
together and separate.
His head was turned toward his hands
from which glowed a familiar light.
Her slender fingers emerging from her long sleeves
devoured a mobile phone like so many crabs
feasting on a sandy carcas freshly awash on the shore.

Three hours later, or maybe four, I found them again,
bodies cut and pasted now to a park bench.
Their backs were turned toward the sea.
And still, he poked a pad with a thin inkless pen;
the silver box she held caught a ray of sunlight.
The glare caused me to look away.

He may know how the Dow closed today.
She may have seen the photos of her second cousin's baby daughter.
He may have confirmed his tee time for Saturday.
She may rest easier knowing that she did indeed lock the front door.

But did they see way the setting sun over Greece tonight transformed
the clouds into purple and crimson hues to match the anemones flowering on the hillside?

I walked into my small room tonight and stepped out onto the balcony,
a phone's throw away from the sea.
Moments later, as I reached for the light, I thought of that couple
off somewhere in a little room no doubt like mine
in which electronic orgasms may lead to the conception of modern-day
Minotaur:
half man, half megabyte.

And the two of them all-the-while unknowingly logging off
as if it were any other night.



"Minoan History in Three Parts, Concluded with A Moral"

The windows of the Queen's palace
overlooking the Mesara Plain were always blocked.
Not because she did not want to see out, but
because she did not want others to see in.

Minoan people never built harbors;
they set sail from and returned to the sandy shores,
already in existence.

Unlike Egyptians who built walls and
constructed inward, Minoans found the center
of the space, and planned and built outward.

People, let us:
1. expose our humanity freely
2. use what's made available
3. work from the inside out



"Twenty Meter Trot"

I walked up to the man and said, "Sir, pardon me,
can you tell me which way to the grocery?"

"Yes, young man, I'll tell you today.
You gotta walk 20 meters and go this way."

I stepped up to the lady, with apples in hand,
and said, "How do I get to the post office, mam?"

"Go out this door and turn to the left.
Walk 20 meters and... you'll figure out the rest."

Posts in the mail and ready to go,
the bus I needed but my map didn't show.

"Kalimera, my friend! Do you know where the bus is?"
"Twenty meters over there. Adio! There 'tis!"

Some day far from now when this life has ended
Earthly toils and travels thereby suspended

I'll reach the pearly gates and say to St. Peter,
"You don't have to tell me -- I'll be with the Lord in about 20 meters."