Archive | February, 2012

King To Pauper

Rendering itself useless now,
the elements of Nature
first borned by Man
to work for him have gone rabid.

But in wisdom still,
the moon continues
to pull the oceans by great force
and gently lays the rolling waves
on windswept sand, clearing man’s debris.

The wind if amortized,
would harness its power
to push the plow.
And sun, first born of woman
would gladly warm
the earth’s chilled bones
and never cast a shadow.

The earth would form the nested nettle
where foot transgressed,
with pleasure support
the frame of man forever.

Air in bunches note
the going in and coming out of men
and upholds their stance, untiringly;
gladly yielding itself to noble ends.

Relegating himself to the beggar’s position
of that which man himself created,
the Art is lost and in its stead
small triumphs rise.
Birth and death are Nature’s saviors
preventing man

from raping her in anger.
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A Perspective

To forgive and forget has become a shopworn edict.  It can work just so long but when you realize that the god of the other person weighs your interest against his best interest, you might come in second.   You can forgive until your face turns whatever color it is not, it still is heavy on the heart.

Forgiveness can only work when we give up hope that the past can be rewritten.  Generally the insult or injury is not viewed as such by the other if they are still in our lives.  Even when pointed out, there is no ‘I am sorry’ because the other does not see a reason to be sorry.  It does not mean that the injuries are not valid.   It means that the other has a different frame of reference and heads are different.   It means that what is, Is.  It does not mean that all things are forgotten, but that from this point on there will be notable changes.    How different will depend on what we value.   And that is where the hard work of sifting and sorting and building a philosophy begins to accommodate life’s challenges.

Education of people varies so one wonders about credibility.  Women stand by erring husbands and often feel guilty. People stand by their governments no matter how rancid, employees stand by employer’s outrageous malfeasance, and children work to cover their parents’ stupidities.    Now everyone is to be held accountable.    This is how it should be.   But it is a challenge.

The question then is how to forgive the daily irritant in our lives, related or not.  In this day of  DNA , we are more than a little surprised just who our relatives are. The commandment still is to love one another.   When we look upon Others as separate from us, we deal with me, my and mine instead of we, us and ours.  Open warfare is the agenda and we become Separatists, whether we speak of a person, families or countries. 

Forgiveness may be difficult when we cannot accept the effort of Others who behave in a manner that is within their frame of reference or their culture.  That path may not be what we can share but we must remember within them also is the earnestness to find a way toward their truth.  When we acknowledge our different perspectives and that the past is accepted as past, we can begin to write the script for the future by our actions today, the present.

Let us gift ourselves and make today our present to us.

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Shared Silence

It is a time
past the time of talk,
past the time of argues.

There is a time of silence,
a shared silence;
a time to accept,
a time to simply
slip into old slippers
and Be.

No matter the world,
this time is ours.
Maybe not to fill
all the empty spaces
but given time,
blends them

into a communion
of shared silences.
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When David Died

I say that David took the hands off my clocks.
It was the greatest gift he could give me.
I tire of running my life with a large hand and a small hand.
No time for this, hurry for that.   Do this now, do that before.
I hate it.   With a passion.

I want to immerse myself in time and swim in it.
Feel it around me yielding
and yet holding me up.
I want to feel the eternity of it
and I want to see my house and yard
at different times under the sun.
To be able to say that in the morning
this is precisely how they look.
I want the information stored in my Memory Bank
for those times when I feel bereft.

I want to see the moon rise and give way to the sun.
I want to see the rainbow
around the moon and say again
we are in for a big snow.
I want to find the joy in the mundane task
of shaking out the kitchen rugs
on the back porch and feel the cold boards
beneath my slippers and the cold air
stealing beneath my clothes.
I want to keep looking at the moon with a glance
because no farmer stares at the moon too long
and say hello David.

And when I feel very homesick,  I will again
as I have in the past, take my coffee
out on the porch and sit beneath the midnight sky
with the stars daring me to look up
and identify them and again

revel in this multifaceted existence called Life.
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