I am an echo

of everyone I've ever loved.

They've all left a trace on me.

They each took a piece of me

until there was

nothing left.

I am but an empty shell.

I am but a cave

with memories on the walls.

I am but an echo

My title is from a poem by the poet, Langston Hughes, entitled, Dreams.

Hold fast to dreams 

for if dreams die

life is a broken-winged bird

that cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

for when dreams go

life is a barren field

frozen with snow.

It is among my favorite poems, one of the few I know by heart, because I feel its universal truth. Dreams don't have to be grandiose, merely something that gives us purpose, a reason to get up in the morning. Otherwise, why bother?

Published in 1923, I suspect Dr. King had read it and was a firm believer in its message for he was beyond a doubt a purveyor of dreams, dreams much bigger than an individual life.

If you have never done so, or even if you have, I would encourage a reading of the entire speech - or listening to it. The "I have a dream" passage is towards the end and while moving, it is only a small part of what he said that day in 1963. So much has changed since then, and yet many of the images he paints of the country he loved are still in evidence today. The history he describes is no less true. His counsel, "Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred" should be held aloft and remembered as much as, "I have a dream."

Despite their fame, the words he said that day are not the first ones that come to my mind when someone asks me my favorite Martin Luther King,Jr. quote. In November, 1957, in a sermon he gave in Alabama, he said,

Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

My second favorite is from a sermon he gave in November, 1956: "Let no man pull you low enough to hate him." This comes from a longer paragraph that I had not read before I began to write this essay, but which I find to be perfect insofar as it reflects both history and our present as well as portending the future. A rather bleak one, sadly. He said:

As you press on for justice, be sure to move with dignity and discipline, using only the weapon of love. Let no man pull you so low as to hate him. Always avoid violence. If you succumb to the temptation of using violence in your struggle, unborn generations will be the recipients of a long and desolate night of bitterness, and your chief legacy to the future will be an endless reign of meaningless chaos.

The tentacles of chaos are visible across the world for humans seem incapable of conspicuous acts of kindness as a route to peace.

Even so, I hold fast to dreams, and make every effort to be love and light to all whose paths I cross. I may not change the world, but I can emulate the change I want to see.

Sitting here

beneath this tree

truth grows

easier to see

-

Leaves flutter

in the daylight

knowledge increases

personal insight

-

Time moves on

with persistent surety

pushing thoughts

into obscurity

-

Hollow dreams

of no recourse

echoing words

quiet remorse

-

Finally realizing

as the leaves fall

there’s no escaping

your Fate’s call

A long time ago I was driving a lonely stretch of road in New Mexico and heading south on state route 54. I was in the middle of the night, and I had a full moon to illuminate my surroundings. This stretch of road is a mostly two lane roads with a few small towns scattered along its path. Truckers use this road quite a bit in all seasons as a short cut from I-10 to I-40 or visa versa. When you take this way from I-10 you also have to take state route 70 and go through White Sands Missile Range out of Las Cruces. Don’t forget to turn left on 54 in Alamogordo or you will wind up in Rosewell New Mexico.

As I said, the night was lit up by the full moon and it was about 50 degrees which made for great night driving. I was driving south on SR 54 out of Vaughn and not quite into Carrizozo when I felt something strange. Like something was inside the cab with me. Something spiritual. I had been driving several hours at that point, but I was used to the long hours at that point. I had been an OTR truck driver for nearly thirty years. As I looked up to the sky with its full moon, I could see a mountain range to my left and it was beautiful. On another trip I discovered what was in that mountain range by taking SR 70 through the Mescalero Indian Reservation.

It was a strange feeling in the cab for a little while that night in fact at one point the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I do not frighten easily and have seen many strange things in my life and felt strange things too. So, as I drove south, I wondered if it was a lost spirit of one of those Indian tribes up there on those mountains. I started to ponder what if I try talking to it? I did just that and said to whatever was in the cab with me, “Who are you? I did not get a response at first. So by this point thinking I was a little crazy to be talking to something I cannot see I said “What the Hell I will try another question. I asked, “are you an Indian from up there on the mountain? If you are make a noise one rap yes two raps no.” I immediately got a strong rap like someone hitting my dashboard. I guessed I was not crazy at this point but wondered why the hair on the back of my neck had not calmed down any. I thought now that I know this spirit was of an Indian tribe up on those mountains, now what should I ask it? I know what I will ask, I said, “Why are you riding in my cab tonight? What do you want to tell me? I had a long period of silence about 5 minutes or so that seemed like an eternity, so I asked another question and asked in the same format, yes one rap no two raps. I said, “Is there something ahead that I should know while I am driving tonight?” Again, no answer but this presence of evil or what I perceived to be pure evil would not leave.

So I kept trucking south and turned onto SR 70 to get to Las Cruces and as soon as I made the right turn the hair on the back of my neck went down. I felt comfortable again inside my truck again and wondered what all that meant. I guess that is a story for another day. That only happened once, and I have been through that area of New Mexico many times. But I never felt such a presence of evil before that time in my life and maybe that was all there was too it.

By Jim Lamb

Woke up this morning with a blue spot on my nose. It was toothpaste. That tells me two things: 1) Must have brushed my teeth last night. 2) Apparently without the bathroom light on … and that’s not the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Not even close.

Some years back (in the early 1990s) I was a section editor at the Sarasota Herald-Tribune. As I stepped out of my cubicle, one of my colleagues made an observation:

“Your shoes don’t match,” he said.

Looking down, I realized that my socks didn’t match, either ... Embarrassing. And that’s still not the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

(Drum roll, please.)

In an interview with the then-Saint Petersburg Times, I showed up looking sharp—shoes matched, socks matched, etc.

After the interview, I stopped by the restroom only to see a big booger hanging from my nose. Disgusting.

Did not get the job.

What about you? What’s your most embarrassing work-moment. (G-rated, please.) Can you top toothpaste on the nose? Shoes that don’t match? A booger? Share your story, and help bring a smile to my face.

Thanks.

I love myself.

I love how I look.

I love how I feel.

I love how I am.

I just love myself.

And I love telling myself all of this.

But then things change.

Everything I say is a lie.

Keep that it mind.

Read it again.

He became her sunrise

And setting sun

Celestial event

Her fervent one

And then

The sky fell

As he left her gazing

Expectantly

At a cold horizon

All alone

Hope

Is

Saying

All right

I can dash my past plans

On the unfamiliar road ahead of me

As

Life's about

Expansive joy and laughter

On more roads than one

One road only is the most direct path

Though, where are we arriving but death

Unfamiliar roads are time-giving detours

But that shouldn't keep you from

Taking unfamiliar roads at a run

(If you like this poem, you may like my haikus in "Once Birthed, Eternal")