July 31: Long Hot Summer

Oh, long hot summer of tragedies 

and indignities, how I wish for your end! 

How achingly I yearn for gentle, healing 

rain—not damaging floodwaters

but cool, refreshing, clear drops of water 

on my face, on my overheated body, 

on the seared grass and earth,

washing over the sore, despairing 

surface of all things, penetrating the hard 

shells of false courage and indifference,

seeping deep into the tired souls of all 

living beings. When stupidity and humidity 

wreak havoc and hopelessness,

all creation longs for relief, 

for calm sense, for peace.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 30: End of July

End of July heat lurches toward August, when everything and everyone is worn out. The heat itself is weary, shimmering from earth and radiating from washed-out, sun-bleached sky. Even when it rains, it only storms hurriedly, as if the weather is saving its energy for later. After the rain, humidity and heat drift lazily upward.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 29: Deep Green

Deep green awaits in distant Southern woods

Away from stress of daily grind and grin,

And creatures of the forest dwell in moods

Of quiet wonder far from senseless din.

Such placid verdant scenes restore my soul

And broken shards of living are made whole.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 28: Root Canal

Another day off to be spent reclining

in a leisurely manner in a dental chair

as an endodontist attempts to repair

a problematic root canal on tooth #15,

around which an infection has developed—

another opportunity to work with anxiety

as I bless and curse modern dentistry again.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 27: Silence of This Moment Prayer

In the silence of this moment, 

in the warmth of this gathered community,

We seek stillness—not a lifeless stillness,

but the stillness that precedes thoughtful action,

the stillness that allows our souls to breathe,

the stillness that brings strength and resolve.

As we pause for a moment of silence,

let us sense, together, 

our shared strength and resolve.

How beautiful it is 

to breathe together, 

how needed it is.

May the stillness of this moment 

bring healing to our spirits.

May the essence of this moment 

bring the flowering of restorative justice.

And may we find the peace of true harmony 

now and always. Amen!

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 26: Trying to Hang On

Thunderstorms roared and rumbled

Through the flatlands of Ohio

Flooding some of the low-lying roads

While traffic on I-70 crawled along,

Each of us trying to stay on the highway.

And praying that the rain would stop.

Today the sun is shining everywhere

But I find that I am exhausted

From spending so much time

And effort just trying to hang on.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 25: Awareness

The challenge each day is to be fully aware

Without judgement or the need to act:

To be aware of the leaves on the dogwood

Without worrying that it might be too dry,

To be aware of the grass in the front yard

Without dreading the next needed mowing.

To be aware of the soft shape of my body

Without chastising myself for gaining weight.

To be aware of the beauty of everything

Without fearing the inevitable pain of loss.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 24: So Much Depends

So much depends on this poem,

While it is also of no consequence.

Each moment of life is like that:

So much is at stake with each breath,

But, once breathed, it’s forgotten.

The trick is to hold both truths

But to hold them ever so lightly.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 23: How Things Are

Healing, if any is to be found, 

will come when we are able 

to let go of things that no longer 

serve us well, when we release fear—

a fearful process in itself—

when we put aside resistance

to change, when we relax our grip 

on our version of how things should be 

and open ourselves to how things are.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 22: Wholly Soulfully

There are so many ways

the world is messed up—

politically, socially, economically,

ecologically, religiously—

that we tend to think

there’s no time to spend

meditating, contemplating,

simply being in the world.

But, now more than ever,

iIt is essential that we learn

to live wholly soulfully

before it is too late. 

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 21: Spirit-and-Bone Animal

Our dog inhabits the house

while we just live here.

Our comings and goings 

punctuate her day,

but she is the keeper

of the dwelling—its sentry

and companion, its beating heart, 

its spirit-and-bone animal, its soul.

The house in never emptier

than when she is absent

and is never complete

without her presence.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 20: Joyful and Fearful Prayer

Between two houses across the street,

Just beyond the oak tree separating them,

A dark gray patch of sky looms silently

As a ray of sunshine lights up our yard.

In this time of uncertainty and foreboding,

I hope and pray that we might bear in mind

Both the joyful and fearful elements of life,

Making space to hold all with joined hands.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 19: Kinds of Gray Skies

Apocryphal stories have it that

Inuit people have hundreds of names

for different kinds of snow—

words corresponding to relative

wetness, temperature, color,

size, shape, texture.

So one might similarly imagine that

Pittsburghers have a great many names

for different kinds of gray skies—

words describing various

shades, humidities, brightnesses,

densities, elevations, moods.

Today, for example, is quiet

midsummer morning gray, windless 

with no imminent threat of rain—

Yellower than midwinter gray,

portending mugginess and high heat

as the sun breaks through

and the day wears on.

Something like:

humidomidsummermorninggray.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 18: Even More of a Miracle

If the Lord 

didn’t make 

this day, then it’s 

even more of a miracle,

even more reason 

to rejoice and be glad,

even more reason 

to take refuge in the holy

than to be undone 

by fear and hate mongers.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 17: Last Night's Lightning

Last night’s lightning was like fireworks

or artillery fire flashing across the sky,

thunder booming through the hills,

as our dog walked around the house

slowly, tail down, wondering why

we were so calm while the world was

clearly coming to a calamitous end.

©2025 Jim Magaw

Julty 16: Infant at the Board Meeting

Last night’s board meeting 

was vastly improved

by the presence 

of the eight-month-old 

who slept on her father’s chest

in absolute peace and calm—

safe and imperturbable,

radiating well-being, 

contentment and beauty.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 15: Chasing Happiness

Sometimes people 

chase happiness 

the way dogs 

chase their tails—

except that dogs 

are already happy, 

and people wouldn’t 

recognize happiness

if it bit them in the tail.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 14: Grace

Yesterday I preached about grace

and in so doing experienced grace myself.

Imperfect and frustrating as this life is,

mysteries beyond any understanding

fill my days when my heart is open

and the spirit has room to move.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 13: Perseverance Prayer

Amid the noise and chaos of the world around us,

Amid the noise and chaos roiling within us,

We pause for just this moment to hear or sense

The beauty of the natural world among hills and valleys,

In the skies, on land, in sun and rain, beauty everywhere.

We pause for just this moment to hear or sense

Our own souls’ deepest longing for stillness, for courage, 

for respite from fear, for something new to emerge.

We pause for just this moment to hear or sense

Our shared dreams, shared songs, shared prayers,

Shared sighs as we, together, we persevere.

We pause now for a moment of silence.

May we always be aware of the beauty around us.

May we listen to the deepest cries of our souls.

And may we remember that we do not have to be alone.

Amen!

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 12: Lethargy of Youth

How sweet the lethargy of youth

when long summer days stretch ahead,

life filled with seemingly infinite potential

and daydreams that drift like boats on a river.

Oh, to recapture in later years 

that sense of spaciousness of time!

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 11: Time Passes

Time passes swiftly, almost irresponsibly,

without checking the rearview mirror,

with no regard for the flow of traffic,

with abandon bordering on recklessness,

and then slows to an infuriating crawl,

leaving everyone horribly frustrated,

wondering if the guy behind the wheel

should be even be allowed on the road.

©2025 Jim Magaw

July 10: Thick Layers of Cloud

Thick layers of cloud 

obscured the sky 

last night so the stars 

and almost-full moon 

were invisible; even 

fireflies took the night off, 

hiding somewhere,

sheltering from wet 

darkness in grass and trees.

Evening rain often eclipses 

the magic of twilight,

bringing nighttime prematurely 

to all living things.

©2025 Jim Magaw