Courage. . . to wear as epaulettes. . . .


What is visible is visible and what is also visible can be chosen not to be seen.  The depth of perception only depends on the inmost courage of the individual in his capacity to deal with impending events.

Courage is not garnered overnight nor is it stored for all time.  It is fought for every morning in the bathrooms all over the world.  And it is worn with conviction man hopes into the kitchen for breakfast with the family. 

It has been that life of quiet desperation Thoreau wrote about. To live one’s life directed to the greater life is only done with knowledge that the greater life exists.  For this to become common knowledge means the footwork has been done.

But only as we observe with knowledge that life is neverending,  is everlasting and the challenge is in the journey, in the hope that humankind will tolerate the fact that destiny is in his hands.

And what happens in the world inhabited is but a reflection of the greater worlds and what will transpire in greater degree elsewhere.

And the planet Earth will prevail, and humankind will survive, and the Universes will reflect the good we hope to inflect in the heart of man.

A program televised told of near death experiences of several people.  One of the persons reflected on her experience as vast, simply the other side was vast.  And vast it is.  With boundaries set to see what limited senses reveal, that there are those who see what others do not.

Unless words find a bedding, like the words everlasting life, the cycle repeats but with a difference to come.  Circumstances will not be as favorable and forever actually come alive, a death path is walked and cannot give houseroom to what actions by omission and commission wrought, nor the planet hospitable.    

When icons are smashed symbolizing centuries of man’s desire to translate the divine into the material, he smashes also the humans who built them.

Found Courage . . . . 

I ask,

          Where did you find your courage?

On what tree was it hanging
that you could reach up
and pluck it from its hiding place
to wear as epaulettes
on your shoulders?

The children whisper during the night,
saying their Ave’s to each other,
hoping they will grow into courage
with a red badge to wear.

You say,

They are blinded.
They cannot see their milky courage
like cream rising to the top;
one day to merge
through alerted senses
that call for unthinkable strength.

They have been practicing every day
since they were born.
They will learn that courage
comes with each breath taken
and like the freedom they take for granted
must be won every day.

One day they will find it wears like a second coat of paint.

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