Author Archive | Veronica Hallissey

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.
2

The Dance

There is a dance that our feet learn to do when first we stand up.  That dance
is learned well, for even when our feet no longer dance, our phantom feet 
remember the dance.   They itch to dance.   And under penalty of death we
think, we stay with it.   If we decide to learn new steps, the old steps often need
to be altered.  And if they are, we think we are not needed for our dance or we
feel our steps are not noticed anymore and are taken for granted.   Either way
we may feel sorry for ourselves or worse, give up.   Very few give in and learn
new steps, perhaps slower ones.   The new dance feels alien to our self image 
and we are certain we will be laughed at.   Fortunately others do not remember
our old steps as we who danced them.   In the fashion of our admired dance
stars, we skimmed the floor and swept others along with us.

And that is the kicker.   When one is aware that a new step is needed, one is
aware also that the dance is soon ending.  How to do it gracefully,  with a
sweeping dip that barely touches the floor, takes a nimble body and mind.
Most of us do it with the tentative steps we learned when first we learned
to dance.   For the vision might still be sweeping, but the body falters.   And
before we know it, the audience's attention is riveted on younger feet still
learning new and beguiling steps.  We shuffle off the floor.   Our dance is over.

And we are never the wiser that the young feet doing the new dance could
not dance at all had we not learned the old dance first. 
3

A Resolution

Let us resolve to fall in love with our Earth.  Since many resolutions have
already died let us fall in love with our Earth and keep her alive.  Yet
how does one fall in love with Earth?   It is easy.   It is a different kind of
feeling, a oneness, a union that nothing dissolves nor divides.  It is the
steadiness,  the compliance of all things in Nature that yield to a bidding
when it is done with love.   She is not secretive.  She is an open book.

 

This love is a desire to return to a place where the heart knows its
completeness, in its wholeness with the laws of Nature.  We become one
and the same.   We are what the seeker chooses to establish when all else fails
to come to fruition.  When there is nothing that satisfies, there is always
the hope and response in the garden, in the fields and in the forests.  In its
beaches and in its waters.  It is a communion with the holiness in us and a
love which puts all else to shame unless it measures up.

 

It is a comfortable place to be.  It is what we choose in place of
relationships that wither with disillusion.   Nature does not.   She gives
from an unending Source, reaching into her carpetbag to bring forth bits
of revelation to entice, to give one reason to keep trying.   Yet when she
falters, for every grievance she dispenses, there is redress.  In time there
is an adjustment, a correction for every injury.   She is easy to love.   And
no matter the number of other worlds,  this one is worth taking care of.   No
illusions are necessary because she is sufficient unto herself.

 

In retrospect, this planet has suffered with our lack of stewardship.  So
let us fall in love with her.  Let us resolve to make her an object of our affection
and take care of her.   It is time now to assume guardianship of this place
we call home.

 

For this time it is all we have.
2

Gift of Time

I am in a January
which thinks it is an April.
I fully expect to see
the rose in bloom and perhaps it is.
In my mind I have transplanted
the marigolds and set the annuals
in their proper places.

In my part of the world I awake.
It is dawn and I prepare for the new day.
The dogs are put out and  
the papers brought in.
And in the dailyness there is virtue.

I marvel at the continuity of it all.
In the beauty of the day
I now see all days and
in the quiet of the night,
I note the world's silence.

In recognition of who I am
in connection with All That Is,
I am grateful.
I have taken this gift of time

and richly wear it like a money belt.
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A Toast

May the winter sun warm you
and the winter moon
house your heart.

May the world
set the stage for your dreams.
And may love
choreograph your life.

Look up!

With these the New Year will be rich.
4

Christmas Lullaby

Christmas_lullaby

The moon assists the drama
heralding the arrival
of the event
locked within memory.

A place, deep within time’s measure
nudges from familiar territories
the clockwise turn of events.

Incense, sweet hay,
pungent holly, sweeping palms,
evergreen.

The eye follows the moon rays
to find the final beam
lodged in our heart.
The ear strains to hear
the lullaby last

to find we are the music.
1

An Offering

In all things good we ask that a Light so shine
that the good works which are ours
will glorify and exemplify all that is true
and divine,  both within us
and within the Earth.   We ask 
Divine guidance be placed
upon our heads and within our hearts
that we may bring to light
all that we have been taught and
all that we have learned.

We ask in all names that signify
the blessedness of life and the glory
which is both Divine and human.  

We ask,  please receive.   Amen.
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