Today
Today I’m flying low and I’m
not saying a word
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.
Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.
-Mary Oliver
This is part of what’s left of an ancient city of Pergamum in a modern-day Turkey. It was also a well-known center for the arts. The theatre was originally built during the 3rd century BC, modified by the Romans. The theater has 80 rows of seats, divided into three sections, with a seating capacity of about 10,000 persons. It has a very good acoustic sound system. When I was at the bottom, I could literally hear what my group was talking at the top.
Pergamum is one of the “seven churches of Asia” in the Bible as written by Apostle John in the Book of Revelation.
“To the angel of the church in Pergamum write: ‘I know your works, and where you dwell… where Satan’s throne is. And you hold fast to my name, and did not deny my faith even in the days in which Antipas was my faithful martyr, who was killed among you, where Satan dwells.'” Revelation 2:12
The two trees in the picture are where the “Throne of Satan” was built before. The throne was excavated, relocated, and reconstructed in Berlin.
Turkey is literally filed with abandoned ancient relics. Even in the city, we found a sarcophagus used as a beautiful “settee” for these young girls.
Israel has so many places that is steep in history. One of them is this Church on the hill. I believe it’s Baha’i. We stopped by to take pictures and to admire the beauty of this place.
I went up the hill to visit the old man who lives there.
“It’s been a long time,” he said, “Since I’ve seen you.”
“Yes,” I said, “I know. But I’d not forgot you.”
Then, in welcome, he sang to me.
But what I had remembered as a youthful voice
full of vigor and fit for forever was turned now into a croak,
a rasp, a sad affair of the heart.
When he dies, I thought, a little of me will die with him.
“These bones go deep,” he said with an effort
as he stood there proud yet, “How can you forgive yourself?”
I thought about that as I kissed him goodnight
and laid him down to rest, up there on that hill.
“In nomine Patris,” I said gently, “In nomine Patris.”
The poem is written by Book of Pain by John Etheridge. John wrote a synopsis of this poem and it’s quite touching. Thank you, John.
Open the doors of your heart.
Give special attention, love and prayers to all those who come to the door of your home and workplace.
Let this simple gift of self be a witness to the love of Christ among us.
Photographs and Memories 