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For Max
For Max Sullivan Maisel<br />
1994 - 2015<br />
There is some reality that is much larger and more complex than we are<br />
able to perceive. (And yet) Poets perceive multiple dimensions within a<br />
single perception – reality as it truly is. “When two systems interact and<br />
their energies intermingle – once the systems separate, something of each<br />
remains in the other, leaving the two connected within the quantum<br />
realm.”* nsm<br />
*Kandiah,Krish. Paradoxology.2015.
Particles Unobserved<br />
Winter white-on-white<br />
obscures the hesitant<br />
horizon<br />
where earth and sky<br />
and lake dissolve<br />
Shadow children<br />
move in single file<br />
in and out and<br />
in-between<br />
the silhouettes<br />
of guardian trees<br />
Summer laughter<br />
sweeps the swings<br />
against<br />
the pillowed mounds<br />
of snow<br />
while<br />
halfway to belief<br />
a solitary frozen<br />
flag is trembling<br />
in a minor key<br />
Danger!<br />
Ice is dressed<br />
to lure you in<br />
nsm 2/20/15
II<br />
The hooded figure<br />
looms above<br />
antarctic steppes<br />
attentive to<br />
the wailing wolf<br />
marooned<br />
beyond<br />
compassion<br />
She never sleeps<br />
Her eyes are<br />
charcoal embers<br />
blown to life<br />
by piercing winds<br />
like laser beams<br />
skimming off<br />
our fears<br />
We barely<br />
hear her breathe<br />
and yet<br />
our tiny ones<br />
are wrapped<br />
in primitive<br />
cocoons<br />
she knits<br />
with icy<br />
needles<br />
nsm 2/21/15
Max<br />
Is still<br />
The smooth<br />
Slim stone<br />
I skim<br />
Across<br />
The brimming<br />
Moments<br />
In my days<br />
The ripples<br />
On the surface<br />
Travel outwards<br />
Til they finally<br />
Disappear<br />
Somewhere<br />
Out there<br />
In space<br />
Unmeasured<br />
Unexplored<br />
Undiscovered<br />
And yet<br />
Some other day<br />
I'll wait again<br />
For just another<br />
Brimming moment<br />
Just another<br />
Smooth slim stone.<br />
NSM, March 2015
Max Sullivan Maisel<br />
January 15, 1994<br />
February 22, 2015
“Only For So Short a While<br />
Have You Loaned Us to Each Other”<br />
Remembering Max<br />
Processional…………… “Morning Has Broken”<br />
Welcome……………… Father Daley<br />
An Aztec Prayer……… Nancy Sullivan Murray<br />
The extensive Murray and Maisel families want<br />
to thank you for the warm thoughts and deep<br />
concern that have embraced us through this<br />
difficult period. We will remember and celebrate<br />
Max through every season of the years ahead.<br />
“His Eye is on the Sparrow”<br />
……………………………. Twiggy Meshele Eure<br />
Remembering Max….. Clare Murray Volo<br />
Singing Bowls………..Gail Aiken and Edie Stanton<br />
“The Peace of Wild Things”<br />
……………………………. Eileen Murray<br />
Reflective Music……… Linda Griffin<br />
Kaddish Prayer………. Robert Druger M.D.<br />
Please join us for lunch in the Parish Center,<br />
provided by “Caring Hands,” a ministry of All<br />
Saints Parish Community. While the Parish<br />
Center is not handicapped accessible, we will be<br />
happy to help those who require assistance<br />
navigating its stairways. There will be a few<br />
tables at street level.<br />
“Litany of Peace” ….Choral Voices & Congregation<br />
Zen Poem………………. Clare Murray Volo<br />
“Imagine”………………. Sydni Noelle Eure<br />
Closing remarks…… Nancy Sullivan Murray<br />
Final Blessing Father Daley<br />
Recessional<br />
“On Eagles’ Wings”
Max Sullivan Maisel<br />
chose to slip into Lake Ontario<br />
on the coldest night<br />
of Winter 2015.<br />
A sweet and talented young man,<br />
a gifted landscape photographer,<br />
Max was beloved by his parents,<br />
Ivan and Meg, and treasured by<br />
His sisters, Sarah and Elizabeth,<br />
plus all the Maisel and Murray families.<br />
The Rescue teams and the Divers<br />
worked tirelessly under severe<br />
conditions and near zero temperatures.<br />
His body was identified on April 18, 2015.<br />
A Memorial Service had been held<br />
In March at the Jewish Temple in<br />
Bridgeport. Connecticut. 900 people<br />
were present. Another service was held<br />
at All Saints Church on April 18, 2015.<br />
The program is enclosed herein.<br />
His Journey Continues.
Saturday, we go to our cabin in Canada. Brendan hands<br />
me a small piece of a bone from Max. Together, John and<br />
I drop it into Charleston lake.<br />
Monday Sept. 6th, Tuesday Sept. 7th: staying very quiet the whole time; images come<br />
and go; the words appear and settle on the page; there are no changes, no corrections:<br />
it's "Unfinished," as is Max and his story.<br />
I didn't share it with Meg&Ivan til yesterday - when I sent it to myself by mistake (?).<br />
Meg replied, "It's a lovely poem, Mom. Leave it as it is."
“Unfinished”<br />
I see you<br />
leaping<br />
off the dock<br />
with your sisters and<br />
the cousin-girls<br />
who bob<br />
like fireflies<br />
sparking up the night<br />
I see you<br />
in your seal-cub<br />
nakedness<br />
slipping easily beneath<br />
the silvery surface<br />
of the lake<br />
I see you<br />
rising up<br />
amid the loons<br />
preparing<br />
for their flight<br />
to places you and they<br />
have never seen<br />
I see you<br />
strolling<br />
with my spirit tiger<br />
designing<br />
ways to stay<br />
untamed<br />
I see you . . .<br />
nsm 9/5/15
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