The tree must come down.
It’s stump must be ground.
Know this,though.
Its roots continue to grow.
The lines we rely upon
To stay safe and strong
Will remain under threat
If we rejoice and forget
The threat those roots make
If we do not stay awake.
The tree may be gone.
But the threat still goes on.
We can take down the tree.
But, stay by me.
We must stay alert and fight,
the tree’s shadows alight.
It takes time for roots to die.
It takes time for truth to replace a lie.
Only the young believe they have time
to wait for the perfect time
to make a difference over time.
Older persons have too little time
to wait for perfection lost over time.
Neither can afford the time
it takes to find the perfect time.
Neither must let the perfect
get in the way of the possible
None of us has that much time.
The wind has ceased clearing away
old lies and false games in play.
New lies form and cling to every surface
and truth is once again surfeit.
Snow may provide pristine cover
until snow melts and we discover
one lie lies atop another.
Spring seems too far away
and each day we must wait seems unsafe.
I welcome any blowing wind that rages,
if it uncovers the millions of pages
hidden behind bureaucratic stages.
Sunlight always follows storms
which speed across a continent’s norms
and freshens the air we all breathe,
able to fill lungs eager to breathe free.
A cold wind is as good as warm.
Each wind has its own charm.
Both can clear the air and remove
what would cause us harm.
No wind today to grace
what feels a very unsafe space.
So, I blow words across a page.
A warning wind blowing hard and truly
meant to make us all a bit unruly.
No place for Kings, I remind you.
We gather together, we too few.
Let the winds blow and harden our stance
to face and uncover lies which advance
the tyranny of greedy overlords
who cannot stand up to truthful words.
Spring is coming, or so, I have heard told.
Until it comes, blow winds! Blow!
No matter how cold.
Even the pictures on the wall
are tilted to the right.
Was there another disturbance overnight?
A tweet, and email, a deep-meet out of sight?
Did I stay asleep to avoid another fright?
When dawn came to anew and renew me
I woke to the strengthening light.
I straightened every picture on every wall.
Was all this only a nightmarish dream after all?
I suddenly feel stronger, the longer I recall
what the world looked like before America’s fall.
Once again, I vow, Americans will be able to stand tall.
Lead with the heart
and the mind will follow
a path of peace and hope,
strong enough to carry
dreams and generosity
for all those you meet.
No matter how difficult
the journey it will not be taken
alone, silently, fearfully.
The heart knows best what matters.
The heart knows the best path.
The heart unites us joyfully.
The heart beats life determinedly.
The heart overcomes strife.
Lead with the heart and do your part
to create a world worth living.
Some paths are famous and large.
Some paths are unrecognized and small.
Every path matters to those
who walk it and make it their own.
Every path converges as we move
into the great unknown.
Filed under POETRY
MY FELLOW AMERICANS
I hold my tongue.
It takes strength I do not have.
Whimpers escape
On shattered breaths,
In silent screams.
The fight worries my soul,
Battle weary and choking,
On words held tight inside.
Once the scream begins
I doubt I could stop.
I wait for your speech.
I yearn for your promise
To stop the authoritarian
Who has taken over our house,
Emptied its vaults,
Stolen its wealth,
Sold its power
To the highest bidders.
So, I write. That I can do
While I wait for you.
To me, this nothing new.
Do you believe me now?
Louise’s strawberry garden fenced to keep out chipmunks, squirrels,racoons,deer,rabbits,skunks and a variety of birds; allowing in rain, helpful pollinators, and insect enemies of other harmful insects. Rest assured the gate will be turned right side up and our American garden will once again flourish and produce sweet fruit. Patience and effort, constant weeding out those harming the garden. It takes time and is well worth the effort.
The fence is placed all around
The strawberries are in the ground.
The gate is upside down.
The harvest will be delayed
Dismantling what we made
hour by our, day by day.
Chaos alway brings change.
Gardens too rigorously defended
make fences necessarily upended
to reach fruit not intended
for anyone but a few
who fence out themselves, too.
What is the gardener to do?
A gate is meant to let us through
to the crop we worked for,
and many of us died for,
a free country we yearn for.
We thought we planted within our reach.
We thought we had enough freedom to teach.
We never thought we would beseech
tearing down everything we had built
to avoid admitting our guilt.
The gate MAGA made is all atilt.
The fence is too high, clearly.
We are just so frustrated and weary.
We may never eat another strawberry.
The food has been cooked
too long, too hot.
The bowl is too hot to touch
without protection
of habeas corpus,
due process,
freedom of assembly
to warn with free speech
that the food is too hot.
When the food is too hot
we must eat around the edges
where cooler air lowers
the heat and hostility
on the tongue of those
who eat from the middle
un-thinking, un-aware,
ready to mix up reality
thinking it will cool food down.
Eat from the edges.
Save the tongue for speech
un-damaged by the heat.
Cool air cannot reach the middle
until the edges have been removed.
Eat around the edges
to compete with the heat
and bring the heat down
until the food can be handled
and the tongue un-mangled
until the food once again
can be swallowed
and the entire community fed.
I am made of stardust
lit by sunlight.
Like lilies of the field
I dig deep into earth
with my toes.
Like birds of the air
I soar on currents stirred
when heat meets cold.
I seek. I soar. I laugh out loud.
I raise my face to the sun.
I dance in moonlight.
My spirit takes flight.
I grow strong.
My beauty abounds.
As earth, my earth
turns round and round.
Time has no meaning
I have found
except to tether my hopes
that change comes around
when most desired,
bright with sounds
of laughter, and courage
unleashed and unbound.
Rejoice in the day,
the month and the year
but stay in the moment.
Have no fear.
Filed under POETRY
annarino writes 