Hats & Maps

1.  (in the thick)

Once an argument could cut
like a two-edged sword. But

that’s old hat. The headgear
now is helmets. And arguments 

cut like shrapnel, every way. 

2.  (in the city)

I like it that my map 
talks to me in a gentle
voice while I drive. Not

like we fallible persons
at all.  When I lose 

direction, she walks me
back. Recalculates
calm as I swear and

cringe into another 
lane to turn around.

3. (in the boonies)

I send nurses now
to find my father
on the farm he so
doesn’t want to leave.

“The GPS,” I warn,
“won’t find it. And 
the road signs have
all been shot.” That’s

just the beginning
of an explanation. 

4. (in the hat trick)

I strap on my Kevlar,
wishing for a newer
model. I strap on my

sword, knowing it
can never cut enough
ways. When the map

stops speaking; when
every weapon fails;
then, sometimes, the

sharp edges rest,
and the old aches
allow a deep breath. 

What Bowling Taught Me About Patience
On Building Bridges
Finding Home
Beauty of the Season? Really?
About David Breeden

The Rev. Dr. David Breeden is Senior Minister at First Unitarian Society in Minneapolis, Minnesota. He became a minister after a career as a university professor, teaching creative writing and literature. He has written several books on theological topics and translates the writings of philosophers of classical antiquity. More information is available at www.wayofoneness.com.


CLOSE | X

HIDE | X