"wonderful..."

"come in,
come in..."
he called from the
doorway as I mounted the
stairs in
winter coat and heavy
boots...

the light pouring through
the windows of
the apartment was
golden at dusk, and the
fire was crackling
and warm...
drawing me to stand in
front of it like an
altar

"come, come...I am
working and I do not want to
lose the light..." he beckoned as he
headed for the kitchen
at the back of the building,
canvases
stacked against the
walls of the
wide
hallway like
bold
wainscoting

on the long, age-burnished maple
counter stood an easel, and a
scattering of
paints, binoculars,
books, journal, and phone...

the sleeves of his dress shirt
were rolled to the
elbow underneath a
chef's apron, and a streak of
cerulean blue
cut across his cheek at a
rakish angle
he was a kitchen pirate
wielding a
paintbrush and a prayer

sectioning grapefruit,
adding a layer of stippled yellow ochre
to a drying canvas,
flipping through scripture for just
the right punctuation to his thoughts,
scribbling notes,
taking calls,
laughing with more
being than I knew a man
could hold...

his office was
the whole wide world,
the Godhead embodied in the vastness
of humanity...a section of grapefruit
as full of meaning as a parable...
divinity in
all its wonder and
pathos,
beauty and
paradox

a bellowing,
joyous living out loud...
a life of
Love, and color,
of music,
books,
flavor...
and God,
always
God at the center,
and circumference...
of His living
always
God at the
heart of
his
laughter...

he savoured
every
pulsing,
throbbing,
heartbreaking
moment of
beauty
and
reminded you
it was
all
God...
it was
all
wonderful...

and we were
always
good...