Yesterday afternoon,
a beautiful day in September, Lord,
I was back in the town where I preached your word
for 25 wonderful years...
I'd gone there to offer a shoulder, an ear,
to someone who needed someone to lean on,
someone to listen, just for a while,
someone to be a friend...
When our time was done, I'd time left over
so I went for a walk on a route I knew well,
on a path I'd taken so many times,
more than memory or counting could tell...
My feet knew the way, Lord - without my direction!
They carried me happily, taking each turn,
minding the cracks in the sidewalks,
leading me down Thoreau street
and out to the ball fields at CCHS,
diamond and gridiron, fields of dreams
which I circled 'round in figure eights
adding tenths of miles to my fit-bit's count...
Happiness spread from my feet to my heart
and settled, contented, deep in my soul
where memories gather and tell the tales
of good times past but not yet lost...
And on the way back, Lord, a joyful surprise:
my reverie broken when a boy in his teens
whizzed by on a skateboard, his face to the breeze,
calling out on his way, "Fr. Fleming! How are you?"
He didn't slow down or wait my reply,
(just as well - I didn't recall his name!)
but he knew mine - and recognized me -
and for one blest, peaceful moment in time
I. Was. Home. I was home!
I was home in a place where I was known
and shown again, without a doubt:
memories survive our goodbyes...
An occasion of grace, nothing more, nothing less,
and for this I'm so grateful, Lord:
you touched, you blessed, you filled my heart
on the path where my joyful feet led me,
out to my field of dreams...
Amen.
CCHS fields: video by CP
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