One drop.
That is all I am
Among the multitude.
Yet within
that single drop
The multitude resides.
No loss.
No gain.
One drop.
All the same.
One drop.
That is all I am
Among the multitude.
Yet within
that single drop
The multitude resides.
No loss.
No gain.
One drop.
All the same.
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What we hold close to heart
too often can tear us apart.
That at which we only guess
too often leads to excess stress.
Age does not bring wisdom as much
as forgetfulness to all we touch.
Every task breaks apart
with pain in hands and feet and hearts.
Tasks are accomplished at great cost
as we move them along, feeling lost.
It is said that “thankfulness is the hearts memory.”
I say “Forgetfulness is the heart’s cemetery,”
where confusion and loss are allowed to rest
knowing we have done our best;
where mistakes are forgiven
and all we are
is just enough
to feel like heaven.
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One drop.
That is all I am
Among the multitude.
Yet within
that single drop
The multitude resides.
No loss.
No gain.
One drop.
All the same.
Filed under Uncategorized
I hide behind
the oligarchs
who hold
true power.
And, thus, I cower.
I hide behind
Their super PACs
where they hold
their true power.
And thus, I cower.
I hide behind
their media outlets
whose talent lies
In the glower of power.
And thus, I cower.
I hide behind
their channeled wealth
washed through the fortress
of my tower.
And thus, I cower.
Coward that I am.
Coward that I.
Coward that.
Coward.
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We live in an age of dinosaurs.
They lumber through
The halls of Congress
The corridors of business
The aisles of churches
The classrooms of schools
The laptops of media.
Lumbering slowly
With a predatory grace,
Assured of their power,
Confident of their success ,
They prey upon those of us
Whom they deem less.
We nip at their heels
At best.
In fear of the coming disaster
And chaos,
They are dying off unaware
Of the changing climate
Of earth,
Of culture,
Of the rebirth,
Of humanity.
They are angry with the increased
Nipping at their heels
As more of us
Draw attention to
Their feats of
Aggression
Domination
Prejudice
And Greed.
Clueless?
Not to what is coming.
Only to their right to control it.
The dinosaur dynasty
is coming to a close.
Prepare now
To survive their loss.
Once they are gone
We mammals,
We progressive growth
Of humankind,
Can expand our range,
Can enhance our world,
Can restore the earth
And it’s people
To what is best
What is beautiful
What is possible
When we work together
Nip by nip.
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Ask us if we want
the homeless sheltered
The hungry fed
Young people educated
Wars ended
Peace assured.
Ask us if we want
Disease eradicated
Special needs met
Pandemics prevented
Illness cured.
Ask us!
Why not?
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Today, I am compost.
Layered by the grief
Of unvaccinated waste
Lying amid the rubble of lives lost.
Today, I am compost. Children trapped in desks
breathing pestilential air,unprotected and neglected.
Today, I am compost turned over and inside out, beside myself until I am transformed into advocacy.
Then, place me on the fields of souls reaching for the sun of compassion, truth, and justice.
Today, I am compost; watered by tears, heated by fears of the loss of democracy.
But, not for long. Spring is coming. We got this.
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Wondering who you are becoming after the struggle to redefine your life during a global pandemic which changed the rules on how to live? I do. My one goal since December 2019 was to survive, and help as many persons as possible to survive with me. Now, survival becomes a possibility, if we can eliminate the threat of global mutation and spread. If we do not, a newer, deadlier variant will swing back around. But, for now, I have hope for continued survival. I am ready to consider being reborn, transformed. Are you?
I stayed at home alone on Christmas. By January 2020 I was refusing to attend any public gathering and private parties. I started ordering groceries. I had purchased a box of N95 masks and suggested others in my family do so as well. They all looked at me askance and asked, “why?” I explained there had been reports of an airborne virus spreading rapidly in China, one never before seen. One, killing a large percentage of those infected and causing severe symptoms likely to linger for unknown period of time in its survivors. They looked at me askance. They continued with life as usual. I continued to batten down the hatches, the crazy old woman of the family no one understood; but, loved despite my eccentric behavior.
This reaction was not new to me. Whatever tidal wave of energy created me in my Mother’s womb it was not familiar to my parents. I asked so many questions as a toddler, trying my Mother’s patience. But, she always would attempt to answer. For example, “Why does it get dark at night; then, light again?” Patiently, Mom explained, “It gets dark when the sun goes down; then it gets light when the sun comes up.” “But, why? Where does the sun go?” Mom would then tell me the earth revolves around the sun. It does not go anywhere. “We are turning on the Earth,” she said. “But, how does the Earth turn?” Sighing Mom gathered two bouncy balls and showed me how the earth rotates changing the sun falling on the ball’s surface. “But, why does the earth turn?”, I asked. “Because of gravity, I think” she answered. “What is gravity?” I asked. She then explained gravity was a force. Which comment led to tides, falling down after jumping etc. Every such conversation ended with my asking, “But, why?”; and my mother answering simply, “Because”. Over the years she called me her little “why because”. As I got older and questions continued unabated, she would comment, “ I don’t know whose womb you came from; but it was not mine.” WHAT! “But, why would you say that, Mommy?”
The first day of school I got there an hour earlier than anyone else after begging Dad to take me in on his way to open his restaurant for the breakfast crowd. He explained to Sr. Aloysius how eager I was was to learn all I could, as fast as I could. She gave me a first grade reader after allowing me to choose my seat. I chose the one right in front of her desk, of course. Day one was a dream. Day two ended as a nightmare. After class I stayed to return my reader, asking for the next book. Sister explained that this single book was our reader… for the year. For the year! “But, why?”, I asked. “I read it last night. I cannot read the same book all year.” Sister asked me to read page one. Then, she flipped to mid-section asking me to read; then to the last page. When she realized I had indeed read the entire book, she looked at me askance and asked, “what am I going to do with you?” Just like my own mother often ended a conversation. I was doomed.
One day, many months after my viral warnings, a niece asked me, “how did you know this would happen?” How did I know? How did anyone not know? Anyone paying attention would have known. Why are we so unwilling to pay attention. “Attention, everyone!” Sound familiar? We hear this everywhere we go. The most common teacher’s comment to students. Of course, we human beings must always be reminded to “pay attention.” Even with the threat of global annihilation of millions of our brethren we must be reminded to “PAY ATTENTION.” This has never been more important than it is in this moment, when the entire planet is about to be reborn. We are in a moment of such transformation that the attention of each of us is critical. Our entire planet Mother Earth faces rebirth, as well. I would like to be here to witness it.
In this transformative time of rebirth we can decide who we are, who we will become. We are still in our mother’s wombs yet. But the moment of rebirth is soon ahead. Ask “why?” always ask that question as you proceed to learn who you are to become. Decide whose womb you are in; one creating a person who honors all life and respects it enough to give it our attention, or one whose self-interest trumps the needs of our earth and all who live by earth’s bounty. Pay attention. I will not look askance at you. I will notice. I will be grateful. I will rejoice! I love you, Mom, for always honoring the “why”. Happy Mother’s Day…everyone.
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My reference to “you” is the collective use of the word, not personal to you or any specific person.
I have reflected on this my entire life. The truth described is obvious. But not so simple. It is hard to hug someone holding an AK 47 while calling you hateful names and threatening to harm you. It is hard to listen to someone who thinks you are a cockroach to be stamped out. it is hard to love someone as they actively destroy whatever you need to survive. For too long we white people have watched such behavior silently, or with comment and shakes of our heads. Praising ourselves for our compassion and sensitivity. And meanwhile the violent words have become so acceptable, so forgivable that the violence becomes inevitable. The liars who say the right thing but would allow the mob to rape or lynch me while they prayed for my soul and cried over me are of no comfort to me. I have had enough of the hypocrisy. I have had enough of the lies. I have had enough of the silent acceptance and remorse. We are so worried about the suffering of white supremacists who fear a loss of power they never really had, but seized as their right, does not appeal to me. My sense of justice falls into the “tough love” category. Sorry, you are afraid. Buck up. We are all afraid of something. Face your fear. Find its source within yourself, where all fear resides. Handle it within you. Stop blaming others for it. Do not expect anyone else to solve your fears. Want help? Sure, Glad to help you work through it. Want to admit your wrongs and seek reconciliation? I am all ears. Want to become a more loving member of the larger community? I will join with you. Need someone to vent to with honesty and contrition? I can handle that. This reminds me of the suggestion that God gives us all the grace we need to carry our cross; but only enough to carry our own cross. Need a reminder you are given the grace to change? I shall remind you. Want to lift up your cross and carry it forward? I shall walk beside you. Sometimes, finger pointing is absolutely necessary.
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We live with
closed fists over open hearts
torn asunder
by deliberate blunder
and refusal
to admit
the truth
or face accusal
for children in cages,
embracing lies as a virus rages,
“good people” who kill and intimidate,
images debated or inflated,
hatred masked
while hate is spewed
on his behalf.
And where does democracy reside
while the citizens must flee
the streets of gas and rubber bullets?
And where does democracy reside
while Bugalloo and Proud Boys
take a ride in camo trucks with
flags flown high through our neighborhoods
to mystify and terrify while “standing by”?
And where does democracy reside?
In long lines at too few polling places,
In court rooms overthrowing voting rights
and pre-existing conditions,
in mail rooms slowed by his intent to defraud,
in Air Force One where plots are made
against our allies and ourselves?
And where does democracy reside?
And when will it end?
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