For my siblings in the United Methodist Church
Things divide
and fall apart
that once were one
at heart.
Streams divide
when points of land
refuse to move,
demand
new channels form,
however hard
the parting ways.
Ill-starred
though it may seem,
the future’s share
is neither dream nor
nightmare.
Island shores
amid the flow
appear eternal.
But slow,
beneath the waves
an inkling change,
and waters over time
arrange
to wash downstream
what once seemed sure.
Water—not the land—
endures.
Divided things
once held apart
will yet be one
at heart.
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Shape and Substance 
Paul, this is such a fine, understated poem. I sent it to my brother-in-law, Sanford Coon, who is an ordained Methodist minister. He and Mary Ellen are heartsick about this decision, and your words were a comfort.
How are you and your beloved? Hope you can come and spend a day with us sometime this spring. There’s an exhibit at the Witte by photographer Michael Nye we want to see.
Meantime, sending love and thanks,
Jan
P.S. I imagine you have heard that Hank Bass died this morning about 7:00 Eastern.
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Thanks, Jan. I’m glad the poem was of some value to Sanford and Mary Ellen. They are fine folk, and I enjoyed the night I spent in their home a few years ago. Please say hello from me. Pat and I are fine, and we do need to schedule a day in SA with you and San. Let’s get the calendars out soon.
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