Archive | Earth

How Much Better. . . if we listen. . .

Some readers have difficulty with my saying I scribe yet writers have forever said they write in the flow or with their muses or simply nodding wisely and saying nothing.  I say I know when the writing is mine and saying I scribed means I hear in silence and from where it comes is where I reach. 

I have long thought that when asking a question the answer already is known by the time the question is asked.  Somewhere lodged in our cranium is the answer to have puzzled the pieces of the question to be asked.  That said,  my mentor, the Nazarene, said  to us all, hearing you will not hear and seeing you will not see.  Meaning we see and hear only what we focus on.  

But if you knock the door will open.  The Comforter will tell you things you did not know and bring to mind what you have forgotten.  (except in this day of loud noises,  one must kick the door because a knock will not be heard)

Possibly it presents  questions unthinkable in two parts.  Do people ever think of themselves as the only intelligence in this  universe considering its miseries and what of its future  or if not the only intelligence and superior somebodies are at the ready to enter in surprise?  Both immobilizing. 

And if we are more than what we appear because of many lives and lifetimes and the answers are within us and beget wisdom, do we then entertain angels unaware for sure as my Mentor said?  Or do we take on  face value the childish utterances that bring on gasps and wonder from where do they come with such nonsense?  Did we not learn in kindergarten to say please and thank you and be kind ?

I bend at the knees easily.  I scribed the following . . . 

How Much Better It Would Be. . 

for  this noble planet
if we cherished her like a lover?

Or loved her as a mother
who adored her child and
wiped the tears away with a soft linen?
Or as a father
whose arms surround the child
are as steel beams supporting 
the frame of the tallest building?

Who would not want these for himself
if he could articulate what would heal
the dichotomy within?

Too few of us around
who love our home so fiercely,
we would protect her vital organs.
The sun sometimes is hidden from man
and the moon embarrassed to see
its  light dimmed with shame.

When patches of earth split 
from the shock of no rain and dust rises and rolls
across the open land, we wish then
not to shake dust from our boots but to greet
a sunrise in splendor.

Offer me this, the Earth Mother says,
that you will raise your arms only to surround
an Other in love.  Promise me this, again she says,
that the swords will be laid
at the foot of the evergreens now and 
a boot will never crush an Other’s right to live.

And I will forever cherish your children.

 

I scribed this poem August 6, 2013
art block quilted by veronica

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Everlasting Life. . we are already in Eternity. . . .

Life Everlasting. . . we are already in Eternity. . . .

 I scribed you cannot list the world’s disorders without revealing yours in duplicate.  If one cannot relate to the ills surrounding, can we expect something to be done with what is not seen?  Is life to be lived for others or for self gratification?  Is one’s pursuit for happiness the meaning of it all?

When your mind travels to strange places and then you’re dumped unceremoniously amidst daily deposits of crud, how to make peace with it all?   I found my experiences unsettling in  kind words, but requiring years of shoe leather to gain a semblance of calm. 

I truly had miles to walk before I sleep as my winter’s poet said.  I made many oceans.

 

I scribed February 19, 1989. . . .edited for space only. . .

When you have tramped the world and know other worlds deserve consideration, you have already opened yourself to what a universe of good can bring about.

We are an experiment in time with our fledgling democracy when other countries have prided themselves on their longstanding existence and smugly reminding us of it.   Noting  our now struggle  to re-establish prior goals and regain footing, we take pride in our immigrant status as preparation for universal life.

When one assumes a good, an attainment one recognizes just beyond reach, is where the challenge is, where the purpose is.  To make manifest that good in whatever existence one is, then that purpose is one’s own purpose to continue to the betterment of universal life.  Everyone prospers, everyone benefits.  We hold onto the bigger picture.

Religions  have tried through centuries to show that ‘as above, so below.’  We are the reenactment of other world  trials and when we succeed, universal and cosmic life succeeds.  Life in every dimension is enhanced.  When we vet  each other by critical standards we adhere to in our most public and private encounters,  we then adjudge with compassion.  Science finds new planets circling to show life in forms not known yet to common thought.

We then as children are colorblind and compassionate in character, to see the absolute efforts engaged by others to then be ourselves judged.  The God Within or our uncommon Spirit  employed by us, will demand an honesty not to be compromised.

As a country we strive to see not color nor handicaps, not differences in appearance but a steadfast gaze in eyes striving to connect, to see not mishaps in appendages, in lacks of the common attributes,  but in arms and hands reaching out to us.  

Everything striving to accommodate the newly portioned lives while trying hard to hold onto what cultures give for stability.  We know we are a motley crew of stewards in a new land looking to being a friend in a place once designed to welcome us.

Maturity with empathy and compassion are required to relate instead of how to confront.  What greater good is there?  We then contribute to the Allness of the Father,  the Allness of Life, the life sustaining Spirit giving life,  (however we chance to call it) so all may live and grow and prosper.

In the most selfish sense we do the best  we can to make it easier on ourselves.  Because life is everlasting and we the God participants partake in it over and over and over again.  That is what evolution is all about.  And one day we find ourselves not on the outside looking in but finally on the inside, home.

One has to learn to walk in all shoes to know how heavy the burden.  We are already in Eternity.

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The Best Learning Place. . . Our Earth. . .

 

A great day at the Park. . . .

 It was another difficult day with health issues and no energy to cope.  And then this ray of sunshine was on my computer. 

Her grandfather saying this little engineer put the frame for the folding camp chair (with many shock corded legs) together, all by herself after seeing it done only once two days before!

 I thought again of the biology teacher saying that there is more of the grandparents in the grandchild than either the mother or the father, whether a human being or a fruitfly.  And I wonder how much of the great grandmother with the Jenny genes in that Emma E.?

 I thought of the many years I had done designated domestic male work from painting the basement floor (with moving the appliances and tool benches) to yard work with wheelbarrows filled with loam.  My young neighbor commented that I moved trees around like lawn furniture. 

But I had older brothers I watched through the years and learned from our mother that when you see it to do, you do it because you will not pass this way again with this chance. 

She knew something innately that we all caught onto.  This chance is ours only and when we see something to do that improves life, we must do it.  It was a sin not to and that was what we were taught.

Yes, there are those who know what buttons to push.  You are having such a good time doing, you hear, I did not want to take away your fun!  So they avoid the sweat work.  Or the best one yet. . all it takes is a little touching up and no time at all. . I don’t need it til’ tonight. . whatever it is. . .

It does require time but so does everything and everybody. Immediately! they insist. . . The ongoing life requires my talents and Emma E.’s talent to watch and do. 

My philosophy tells me do and you will be shown how.  Not perfectly but commensurate with time given and practice.  Soon it will be commendable.

My world needs me and it is personal.  I have proved that I have not just sailed through but took it personally.  The Jenny genes may not be valued in this world  but are in some world, still unnamed.

This best classroom ever is meant to be this best classroom ever to learn to make life better.  It continues for me and is for Emma E. 

 It humbly reaffirms the premise that intelligence undergirds the ALL.  Its potential is unknown and unknown is our potential also.

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Dr. Jonas Salk. . Conscious Evolution. . .

Having been an avid newspaper addict, and leaning to clutter, I tackled a box of clippings yellow with age because then there was no money to buy books.  The local libraries knew the boys and this mother well.

So I read for the past week brittle clips mostly from early 80’s.  I placed aside an article from Parade Magazine November 10, 1984 written by Arianna Stassinopoulos about Jonas Salk, celebrated for the polio vaccine.

Haunting me she writes of his premise of conscious evolution.   Paraphrasing and editing .  ‘her and him . . .he sees a major shift in human evolution from struggling to survive to live,  to choosing to evolve.  In fact to survive, we must evolve and it requires a new thinking, behavior, ethic and new morality.

Mankind then survives, and not only the fittest’.

Going on this magnificent treatise says to physically survive we act in fear.  The fear need not be actual, but we behave as if we lose place, things, relationships, position. To switch behavior to conscious evolution is not easy.   

I have never heard anyone speak of conscious evolution but it must have rooted deeply for me.  I have observed often gaps in behaviors.

Seeing the inequities of life and those in power profiting and our surfacing sense of unease being party to the reasons, we simply cannot survive in this emotional sewer.  Our shame is not what we can live without suicide.    

In being honest with ourselves, we have listened too often to those who told us not to rock the boat.  And watched beloveds drown.

The fatigue in monitoring one’s conscious behavior is total.  One has to learn everything anew.  Courage to stand one more time when one falls is success. 

Like Yoda we don’t only try but do, to overcome fear, anxiety, hatred, revenge, rejection, dismissal, and gender differences, but each time is a major step in potential of all beings everywhere.

Our change of address when we leave Earth will make our admittance easier to where we have earned the right to go.  I kid you not.  If we have to repeat or take remedial instruction, word is no longer pleasant.

Dr. Salk adds this injunction and sufficient it is for the wise. . .’Conscious Evolution  is like an infection with more and more people becoming carriers, whether among human beings or fruit flies, and it might as well that evolutionary changes spreads quickly through an inbuilt mechanism, as if someone called a town meeting or the 7 o’clock news.’ 

Take heed.  Over 35 years ago the language was and is still common for today’s pandemic, Covid -19  that has killed over 170,000 of us.  Dr. Salk talked of saving mankind by becoming better human beings.  Being good is work but highly addictive.  One ends  up having fun and it is contagious as Dr. Salk says.  We all then enhance life in all forms and that chance we all wish for.

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No Space To Grow Bread. . . .

 

No Space To Grow Bread. . .

They are young, you say,
with hormones raging in bodies,
having no desire for libraries and
no entry monies for museums . . .  

In these places, soldiers in perilous times
were forever sowing seeds of freedom,
with farmers tilling soil of rocks and clay
to feed the freedom seekers. . .
and artists seeking to feed Man’s Spirit. . .

Not concerned these young, I say,
while making brothers and sisters
like themselves, for they
are not yet ready for parenting.

Bedroom gymnastics are played
and little discipline practiced
in the games of musical beds
with its consequences.    

We have seen when burgeoning fantasies
take their energies and hormones,
to crash with anger humankind’s masterpieces,
to appease an appetite out of control.

The children of hunger
with bloated stomachs starve to death.
Young girls are ravaged, young boys savaged
while in the lives of their elders,  
there is no hope of place to rest Spirit.

My Earth is in peril and its classroom in jeopardy.
No room for Earth is splitting its seams.
In good conscience, we cannot go forth and multiply.

There is no place and space to grow bread.

 

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Long Past The Time. . .earth in hostage. . .

(I scribed this on February 24, 2018 and it was posted on that day.   Sadly it bears repeating .)

 

There are times that call men to action and this is one of them.  It is time that certain ideas give way to the new ideas but ones that have been incubating for a long time within the hearts and minds of those given to thought. 

We are long delayed in giving space to different kinds of consciousness.  Long delayed in giving space to those whose minds and physical brains have doors open to places the average person does not. 

The still mind is a comfort zone for most.  The comfort being in the place where the meals are hot and the days fall into a pattern that give little leeway for the eventful to happen unless taken into hands of those of ill intent.

Long past the time now we have gone expecting man to become zealous in his attitude to bring peace and  growth to the human beings of which we are a part.  The human is not only physical but is divine.  The  human had his beginning with the stars and is intent on claiming this innate knowledge. 

With every event that comes to life in the human sphere seems to bring calamity in large doses.  Wars are taken as common within the boundaries of the race that prolongs the anguish of ancients.  And little reason lies behind the events except giving action to desires that look to give meaning to the life that has little in it.

Long has man looked for reason to add adventure to his day.  And leaving the children and spouses behind to do so in the names of work or patriotism or to hunt seemed reason enough.  We take to task these reasons.  We take to task the lazy minds that look for physical adventure and not the considerate thoughtful work to give meaning.  Why the need to be entertained than for minds that look for answers to give meaning to the purpose of life?

Long has man preferred to fight wars over boundaries instead of looking to what unites the human race.  Instead of looking to what unites the spirit in manner to bind one to another.  Is it so boring for  man to look to what will prolong and give impetus to the progression of humankind?  Is there so little love between man that there is no common ground?   

From a cosmic view, other worlds must look to see what they can invest in the dailyness to spur man on to promote this planet to growth and progress.  We look to see where we can inject some adrenalin to make the intensity work with fervor.

It is time long gone that the one god, the one world, the one man, the one consciousness be held onto with such religious fervor.  It is time to expand the thinking to include the divine within each human giving access to the spiritual energy and psychic fulfilment which permeates and upholds the universe and universes.  It makes for accountability of the each in his life with the knowledge that names are attached to actions which will demand restitution. 

For too long man has reclined in his comforts with the god he created who will forgive and forget all his transgressions.  That with forgiveness because his beginning was less than ideal and the burden was a heavy one to carry that he would be forgiven whatever transgressions he committed.  The news now is that names are attached to these errors in judgments and these errors must be accounted for. 

Misdemeanors are different than sins.  Sins are different than psychological impairments.  And impairments of judgments are still not dismissed but lessons must be learned so that progression in human lives will not be held in abeyance but will have its time for full potential.

Babies being born are wondering why they are in kindergarten when they have knowledge of worlds in attendance to the great god of wonder that is the rolling thunder of the universe.  Why they are not part of the movement that rules other worlds with motion and movement toward great progress.  But are lost in the illusion of slow motion that seem to immerse the adults in such pleasures.  They come to us as twigs already bent with a history ready to teach and we step on their heads.

We are in the midst of worlds looking at this planet and wondering the outcome of its wondrous elements.  It should have been held as graduation for souls becoming stars again.  Instead it is held as the playground of souls who have learned the sophistication of its accoutrements and given them a place to play forever. 

Time is now that  changes will be evident.  Time is now that much will be demanded.  And the young whose memories now of the violence that has taken their friends and innocence will demand restitution and behavior that comes with adulthood.

The children shall lead us.  And force the children in adult bodies to grow up and let loose  the behaviors that have kept this beautiful planet hostage.  It is time and the children shall lead because they have memory.  Of the worlds they have come from and where they exhibited behavior that showed accountability. 

It is time for all of us to grow up.

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Hunger For What Is Remembered. . . .

I write only of worlds I know.  Of little, gentle fishes called Nords and Kerns and of Teachers.  Did I create them or discover them in place?  They shimmer for me.  They are not just one world.  There are also places of poverty that touch the living heart and strum it with songs of despair which are heard day and night.  Barren places and places also speaking of Mind.  These I write of and scribe.

In the light of daily observation about what goes on in our country,  what must be kept in mind is the progress we make, the potential of individuals and what is voiced as  thought processes.  In the long torturous road to maturity, we look to see what was exhibited in process.

In our leaders, has the genetic line been enhanced with education, perseverance and viewed with no embarrassment because intelligence has been acquired?  One can then guardedly assume stability and maturity within the individual.

We must look upon those wishing election and reelection, at their ancestors and family and be kind in judgment.  In this day when good minds and strong character must be exhibited before important decisions can be made concerning affairs of the world’s countries and therefore the body of man, more care should be given to lineage and character of the person.

And weighed carefully against spirit and dedication of the individual and what has been accomplished in their life.  Personal characteristics as manner and art in coping with the exigencies of life must be accounted for.

The day when credentials consist only of the work accumulated with PR is gone.  You cannot be a better anything than you are a person.  No matter the job.   One whose life is publicly intentioned will hold his personal life above scrutiny.   They will hold themselves responsible and accountable as well.

These days of wholesale keyhole peeping will unveil all manner of decadence.  It is no longer an okay thing to blatantly be crude, an embarrassment not only to the parents of children but also to brothers who have sisters.  The young will demand better behavior.  To the answer ‘everybody does it’ the comment will no longer be hesitant, ‘well, I don’t!’   And the behavior will be unblemished.

In the beginning we were an experiment in the borning of a country settled unethically and dismissive of native pilgrims. Our tortuous route to democracy is constantly questioned and must be compassionately worked at.

Sophistication has catapulted and public education has sent persons unqualified and unbalanced to high offices. But the right to life continues its cost and purpose. We must study and work to make balanced decisions.

The times now demand the best of who we are.    Some think it is a hellhole and yet others know our best will lift us again for those who hunger for the good of what is remembered.

artwork by Claudia Hallissey

(for those who understand how things change and remain the same. . . .this post was mostly scribed from  journal entries of August 12&21, 1987 edited for space)

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Help Balance Our World. . . .

Where is this place called home?  The elders often sit with a distant look and one hears them say I need to go home.  Most lives have given no exact place to these words, but all of us have heard them said since we were children.

I brought this place with me when I arrived on this planet, this lush planet I have come to love and call home. I have buried my face in her earth smell.  Yet I have spent almost a hundred years less a decade, on the outside looking in.

Strange, isn’t it? I love this planet and have taken care of her in the best ways I could.  Where is that place  I brought with me, with a foot dragging behind with more than  memory, but with knowledge I was  loved enough to stay the route until I took the lessons to heart and was healed?

It is the place where words such as honor, trust, love and bonding melded my soul to the weight of words, the only way I had to intricately meld who I am with one who matched and recognized these soul stuffs in me.  The weight of these words, in whatever measure I knew to be the highest and best of who I am, would be the bar I would forever live lives of mine to reach.  The thought that I would not meet this bar, or that  I would settle for less, never occurred.

When it did, I was told that my grief stemmed from integrating the weight of my words  and trying  to balance in a world not ready for them.   My unbelieving puzzlement at what I heard?

Did you say, or did I hear right???  Whatever I heard was right but wrong in what I thought they meant.  But I believed you I said and heard the words, well THAT was your problem! It was a shared reality but not shared perceptions.

In these stressful times where evidence is pictured all day on our screens at home, there is a reality we participate inThe pictures hold different meanings for us according to our perceptual prejudices.  If the camera does not support our prejudices we say it is a fake picture.  I learned that a man convinced against his will is unconvinced still.  Until there is a something he relates to.  Like a body going into a freezer truck because the hospital morgue is full.  And he grew up down the street from this hospital.

Stressful times reveal our fabric.  Look to how you manage your days to see whether you are the role model you hoped to be or have become the person you hoped to meet.  Work on it.

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Sufficient Unto Itself . . .is the day. . .

Big guy, our Newfie, came in to get me up this morning.  It was early but I said give me five.  Which means I need more time.  He left me to take guard outside my room until I said let’s go.  I grabbed a throw since it was dark and cold.  And prepared for time while he had a long drink.

The sky was red and Sailor, I thought ‘red sky in the morning take warning.’  Followed by ‘red sky at night, Sailor’s delight.’  It was a melding for me, a uniting with All That Is.  And whispering to me were the words, ‘Sufficient unto itself, is the day, thereof.’

I am able to hold conference with my constituents easily.  But I would have difficulty explaining how I get there and you would have difficulty believing me, except you have my words in front of you.  I tell you true within the frame of reference that is mine and though criticism comes with my alibiing everyone else,  I have not done so with myself.  I have loved my Earth, unabashedly and am in conference with my Teachers.  (I had previously posted. . .excerpt. . .)

And when we left the city to breathe clean air I marveled as a young girl going to the outdoor privy and stopped at the back door before going up to bed and dipped my heart to blend the night sky to drink of a million stars and wondered how rich could a 12 year old be with the night so private housing so many brothers?  And the air circled my pajama legs and I gave thanks to the clean air and promised to be a caretaker of a place I loved.  I would dip into my bucket of stars and reach for a nugget and it would translate my efforts and keep me fed.

I would teach everyone to take care of our land because it is our home and we live here.    It gives us what we need to live and heals us when we ail and loves us as its children.  It is our mother and we must help her.  And now after a lifetime,  I am hampered by bones forgetting to bend, muscles forgetting to stretch and a heart that cannot forget how I have loved this parcel of a universe so generous with this gift.

How Much Better It Would Be. . .

How much better it would be
for this noble planet
if we cherished her like a lover?

Or loved her as a mother
who adored her child and
wiped the tears away with a soft linen?
Or as a father whose arms surrounding the child
are as steel beams supporting
the frame of the tallest building?

Who would not want these for himself
if he could articulate what would heal
the dichotomy within?

Too few of us around
who love our home so fiercely
we would protect her vital organs.
The sun sometimes is hidden from man
and the moon embarrassed
to see its light dimmed with shame.

When patches of earth split
from the shock of no rain and dust rises
and rolls across open land,
we wish then not to shake dust
from our boots but to greet a sunrise in splendor.

Offer me this, the Earth Mother says,
that you will raise your arms
only to surround an Other in love.
Promise me this, again she says,
that the swords will be laid at the foot
of the evergreens, now and a boot will never
crush an Other’s right to live.

And I will forever cherish your children.

photo by
John Hallissey

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The Farm Woman. . .

 

Someone probably said, considering there is nothing new under the sun, I knew the journey my spirit would take would be the one closest to my heart.  That would be  the earth and sky of course, a farm.  

The details would be only as difficult as I could overcome and not more than I could handle.  I would of course argue that premise.  In retrospect it was the most influential segment of my life. 

Directing and encompassing the who I became to love the Earth Planet as the grandest classroom ever given to viable, developing creatures with potential who worship learning. 

Having said that, my wish is for overwhelming intellects equipped to keep our planet safe and prospering healthily so the young need not worry they will have no dotage. 

It is a beacon to the Universes and we are more than one.  And nowhere are the conditions as ripe for  ideas with materials  becoming expressions as this planet.  Pray that we take only good what moth and rust do not destroy when we terminate our stay, so that we only enhance life elsewhere in whatever form, in gratitude for what we are gifted.

The Farm Woman  . . . 

Woman of the Earth, you are loved.
You gather the fruits of your labors
to your bosom and feed the children.

You’ve inched your way along the
dusty path with back bent in great fatigue
and cultivated rows yielding wise fruit.

You would feed out of your mouth those
you think hungry and then beyond measure.
The fruits are the heart of your labors , the harvest of
your mind’s philosophy, spilling indiscriminately.

Who is left to feed you, farm woman?
What commissary is left open to feed your
hungry soul after hours?  What bookstall will
house the words between stiff covers
to increase your harvest?

Labor, till the sun closes its blinds on the day.
Restless legs will speed you through the night

to find the bins ever full.

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