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In exasperation a beloved said it takes you a whole page to say you went to the corner! And I realize that was the answer to why my perspective is different and so is yours. We see and hear things differently because we endow life with who we are. My readers know that I bring a change in view.
Yet we agree on certain things to allow us to live, hopefully, in peace. We respect the right of each to worship what is holy and allows one to live life’s dailiness as best one can. We endow life with our faith or belief or knowledge with whatever was in our carpetbag to carry onto this life on Earth when we are born.
And I will continue to embrace your right to belief with only the stipulation that you do no physical harm to another. I will include it as my framework broadens and I also prepare mine to broaden for another world. Life everlasting means exactly that. We grow and become other as we live. And I wish we do it with Grace.
I wish all my readers a holy day of their persuasion or a holiday of choice. Since we bring to our lives who we are, my life includes symbols of my beloved Earth, an angel heralding the occasion with joy and my knowledge that like a giant Dove of Peace whose wings we fly under, the undergirding of these Universes is Intelligence and Common Sense by whatever name we choose for it. It is with joy, sacredness and reverence we greet the Season.
When Love Was Hatched. . .
If it seems all is lost think back,
when love was hatched and gave birth. . .
to dreams of wonder and of light
to make bright the darkest corner.And gave us fine sons and daughters
we loved into being. We sought for dreams
to outlet talents hidden between
fields of mind. We sought to bringto each other the reflections
of what we held as our highest and best
in fists tightly clenched. Now we reach
that time in mind, holding closethose dreams like a magnet,
unable still to separate our lives.
And we will wonder who works
the wonders as we flyunder the Wings of the Great God.
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The Uncertain Dance Made Easier. . . .
Sometimes I think the youngers would be happy
for me to lay down my things, and pay attention to do
what other elders do, so it would be easier,
than to pretend to listen to what they do not understand,
to make fit into what they cannot relate.Senseless no doubt it seems to nothing that swims in their heads
to give meaning to what they imbibe.The celluloid people they watch I do not know, give fact
and form to fit what to me is meagre fare, not giving substance to the ache seeking expression.But alas, I try to sell my perspective with its shining specks
flittering on the white moth floating in the night, along
with the fireflies sending messages still to be read by the
night creatures.They inhabit my sight as will the morning birds welcoming me to
acknowledge their presence with my ‘good morning world,
I hear you, I hear you.’I fear their noise will awaken those lives still filled with the passion
of murmurings I have long forgotten.In their place and time a fit, comparable to the seduction of a high
heeled shoe, now uncomfortable and alien to the wobbly feet.Feet needing to support a body still needing completion but wishing
to take flight with nascent wings, promising growth.All the time the youngers know that my having learned the steps well
makes easier the uncertain dance now in progress on the floor.My Mentor said, do for one and you do for the whole world, for eternity then.
And I believed.
photo by John Holmes
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