This post is an excerpt from my brief memoir of my time in Italy, “Il Nido é Bello”. You can check it out over on Blurb

While I live in the future, she is running through the past;
colliding timelines scattering our thoughts of first and last.
With hesitance I stood before and dared ask her to dance,
while knowingly she smiled away and offered me the chance.
But new beginnings really only constitute the same
mistakes we’ve made before, dressed in a different name.
So coyly she did take my hand and let me spin her ‘round
in circles through the days and nights of ever-dizzying sound.

Yet music is a mistress binding even as she saves
with notes like ropes that wrap around—her whispered lies again.
By bricks she builds her storied form and stretches for the sky;
she gathers clouds and casts about the thunder of her sighs.
But even when her tears cascade in showers black and blue,
her sunset smile will burn awhile; her laughter breezing through.
Those whispered words so foreign in the air between our lips—
a thousand breathless admonitions still my fingertips.

A change in key, a tempo shift; the end rolls ‘round again.
Despite the subtle differences, the song remains the same.
One wanderer, two weary minds, this well-worn work of stage—
an oft-repeated narrative: foreshadowed fall from grace.
So I withdrew my hand from hers, the dance between us through—
the music fading fast, the spell it cast upon us too.
For hearts—like stones, cracked—line the road that led me here to her
and time will still these memories before they ever stir.

This post is an excerpt from my brief memoir of my time in Italy, “Il Nido é Bello”. You can check it out over on Blurb

Italy is dichotomous—a tenuous pile of alliances at every level of community, culture, politics, society, and sport. It lies at the intersection of old and new, first and third, success and failure, sainthood and sin.

The adage of roads and Rome holds true. Whether government impropriety, historical precedent, or economic impact, the country’s culture, institutions, leaders, and people manage a consistent degree of international attention and influence—for good or ill.

The Vatican is unique in this landscape. Long embattled the world over on any number of issues, the picture at home is no less bleak, though of a different hue. It’s not unfamiliar—moderns marching through their posts toward some capsulized enlightenment while the old guard hunkers down, clinging to démodé tradition—and yet it is a wholly Italian conundrum.

Many have resigned themselves to hijinks in other spheres, but it seems everyone has a position on the church. Despite long-waning influence, she remains a present, polarizing force, intertwined at every level of individual, family, community, and national discourse.

Her sins are many, heavy, and real—all the worse for being committed in the name of God. Yet she persists uncontestedly in beneficence and mercy as well. She is human, not religion defined, and carries the requisite baggage.

Moreover, she is adept at survival. Italy faces myriad challenges at home and abroad; the church could assume any number of roles in the unfolding drama. No more the unmoved mover—perhaps a realignment, a reinvestment in the hearts and minds of her people will find a fuller future waiting in the wings.

This post is an excerpt from my brief memoir of my time in Italy, “Il Nido é Bello”. You can check it out over on Blurb

She is dancing, scattered light;
she blinds and bleeds in turn.
In focus now, she sparks her fires
and watches as they burn.

Pale, the ash she leaves behind
now drifting to the ground.
She darts about—unguided, bright—
she will not settle down.

Words left lost—unread, unheard—
now dust upon the wind;
she launches from the sunset coast
before a wake of sins.

Stars edge on to take the stage,
the gloaming’s magic done.
A fugitive here in the night,
she speeds after the sun.

He leads a weary chase,
and tired company he makes,
but still she follows after him.
She bends, and then she breaks.

A thousand fractured colors
float aimless in the waves.
Soon drifting back to unity,
she dives beneath again.