Tag Archives: courage

CHRISTMAS LETTER

                          MERRY CHRISTMAS  

The Christmas Letter 2024

This year I am compelled to ask a question similar to that asked by the youngest child at the Jewish Passover Seder: “Why is this Christmas (night) different from all other Christmases (nights)?” It feels different, more significant, more laden with meaning. It calls for more introspection and reflection. Too many mornings I awaken with dread as if there will never be another Christmas

defined by love for all, peace in understanding, and hope for a free and joyful future. The darkness seems overwhelming. I look for a star in the sky to guide my way. I understand the need to find a course I can follow which will lead me to a simple stable where a humble family seeks shelter. I long for those around me to awaken to the need to overcome the darkness descending on my country, on my world. Crass consumerism  can only mask the need for a short time while we search for something bigger than ourselves, to build and belong to a community ruled by fairness which operates within the bounds of law, where each soul has equal value and worth. 

Autocrats, fraudsters, and wealthy oligarchs are not new. Courts which give them immunity are new. It is as if I now live among the crowd who shouted, “Give us Barabbas! ” I see that young babe in a manger in a cave or stable and wonder at man’s inhumanity to man, his disdain for women and children, his abuse of the very earth itself. Making a “buck”, to retain power and control, create more darkness over the earth. WE are the Light. The Light dwells within us. This Christmas I celebrate a birth of a babe who taught me this. I celebrate by standing in the Light, against the darkness. I celebrate by spreading Light. 

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I AM CLEAR NOW

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I no longer awaken thinking I had died during the night. 

No more heavy weight in my chest dragging breath down.

No more lead-bottomed stomach trying to turn fear over.

No more panic tightening limbs positioned to run.

No more thinking  thoughts unable to connect.

I am clear now.

Righteous anger replaces my new-found ability to hate.

Courage courses through veins relieved of pain.

Love for others suffering alongside me on common ground abounds.

A coalition of resistance finds strengthened legs and spine.

Brains calm and stay alert and plan how to go up and not down.

I am clear now.

I see the game to disarm and disarray all opposition.

I see the realization victory by evil forces always subsides.

I see the ability of good hearts to speed the failure along.

I see creativity lead ideas ahead, instead of repeating past retreats.

I am clear now.

Here.

Now.

Let me show you.

Together.

 We can move mountains

of greed and fear and doubt.

I am clear now.

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POST-ELECTION 2024

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My sorrow does not come

from the loss of an election.

Sorrow bubbles up and pulls down

faith and hope and trust in

legal and constitutional protection

for the progressive direction

we moved, pushing hate aside,

within the blue bubble 

where I reside, 

within a gerrymandered state

full of Christo-fascist pride.

Court protection is now

too often set aside.

Criminal leaders with immunity

can now act with impunity

to destroy an entire nation,

indeed a  free world.

Greed acts with such speed

to push grace and care aside.

And truth is destroyed

by incessantly repeated lies.

My sorrow does not come

from watching my nation die.

It comes from watching

fellow citizens kill my beloved nation

Right before my eyes.

And the worst part of it all is,

that it is not a surprise.

I have watched a predator party

stalk us creatures of democracy

my whole life.

The day I most feared 

is no longer just a nightmare.

It is the reality of imminent strife.

I cannot simply smile and reach out,

asked to shake hands with voters

with blood on their hands,

when I want to shout “traitors!”

I think of all who died to protect

and defend my country, my best friend,

I cannot stand to watch cruelty up-end

a nation now at-sea, afloat on lies

that all is at is has always been

after an election.

The desperation of a nation

tears at the soul within.

The soul of each and every American,

until America is dead and buried,

so that rich oligarchs can feed 

their need for power and control.

Citizens United has long been on a roll

to knock down all opposition,

and watch weak Americans fold

their cards and lose their last hand.

Such sorrow, I fully understand.

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SWEET LITTLE OLD LADIES

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com (THIS IS NOT MY NEIGHBOR…LAnnarino)

This is the face of white supremacy,

the sweet little old lady

who lives down the street from me.

She praises the Walz-Harris and 

Sherrod brown signs in my yard.

She gleefully says they make her happy.

I offer the extra signs I have to put in her yard.

She gracefully declines, “my family

would make it hard on me.

Photo by Life Matters on Pexels.com

“So, your family bullies you,” I reply.

Taken aback I watch her smile fade.

“Yes,” she says,” I suppose that’s true.”

“It is just that Black people are so…”

her hands in the air waving away thought…

“They want to take over the country, but ought not.”

“Do you hear what some white people shout,

about taking over government to have their way?

Do you fear them taking over the country?” I say.

A look of confusion crosses her face.

I ask if she thinks every white or Black person

is the same, and if blanket descriptions are really O.K.

This sweet little face now looks away.

Then turns with a frown and admits it’s unfair.

I have family who are MAGA, too, I explain.

If they do not like my signs I simply reply

that they should put out their own signs

and take responsibility for their incivility.

She tells me she is really afraid,

for once glad to be old with death on its way.

I remind her of all dangers she has faced.

I smile and encourage her to take her place

among our past heroes who gave voice to renew

the promise of America for me and for you.

I promise her she is stronger than even she knows,

that together we are strong enough to fight any foe.

I remind her everyone fears what the future portends

She nods and she smiles but her eyes tell a different story

She yearns for the time when being white

meant she could claim control and full glory.

I am an old white lady, but have never been sweet.

Being real is neither pretty nor neat.

I handle truth in its complexity,

dirtying my hands and feet

placing signs in my yard,

refusing to give in to hate and racism.

Ugly truth-teller is my only “ism”.

Silence is complicity.

Fear and hate do not deserve pity.

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Goodness and Mercy

Goodness and Mercy

follow me every day,.

Their footfalls softly fall

As I make my way.

As darkness drops ahead

they lift their torches

to light my way,

comforting through nights

that threaten

To never go away.

I hear their voices

in children at play.

I feel their touch in hugs

from friends keeping loneliness at bay.

I share their laughs and smiles

with strangers on my way.

I am carried in their arms

by those who lift my fears away.

I accrue my many debts

but it is they who pay.

They carry me toward my fate

when I would wearily delay.

And, when it seems useless,

they remind me to pray:

“Thank you, Goodness and Mercy

for following me all my days.“

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KEEP ON ROLLING

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Life is a circle

which rolls back along itself

in never-ending movement,

its motion so slow

we cannot see where it goes.

But going forward it is.

It reaches goals a mile a minute,

gaining speed on downward slopes.

Only then do we notice

the movement at all.

We roll with the punches

over new terrain,

fearing any moment we may fall.

But the circle keeps on rolling,

circling from beginning to end

then back again, moving forward 

all the while, where wheels 

are allowed to move freely.

There are those whose lack

of courage and curiosity

try to put on the brakes

and stop life’s relentless spin

into the future we cannot see,

looking backward as the wheel

spins forward over and over again.

Their fear grows with each 

forward motion

drowning in an ocean

of doubt and uncertainty.

They confuse beginnings with ends.

It is difficult to see

when so small we all be.

we look right and we look left;

too small to see

a wheel as large as infinity.

But never doubt, my friends.

We keep on rolling, rolling, rolling

moving forward over and over again.

Our progressive movement

is not a fall, 

from  grace; 

we are always in

the best place;

This time is simply

a new start after all.

We shall come through

as we always do

to new places

with new faces

new beginnings

that never end

but circle on,

and on again.

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HIDDEN TRUTHS

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On the lintel stone

of my grade school

above the entrance

children passed through

every day,

after we left church

where we gathered to pray,

were the words to guide us through

childhood to adulthood as the

the good sisters would say:

“Ye shall know the truth

and the truth shall set you free.”

Those words I reviewed

each night before I slept,

an examination of conscience

of my personal truth;

what I had done that day,

who I had shown myself to be,

to myself and others

I had met along the way.

Uneasy truths rose in my mind

of tasks left undone

so I could play;

unmet needs of others

who got in my way;

truths I wished would go away

so I could pretend to be

someone so much better

than you, and better than me.

It is not others we fear.

We only fear who we are,

deep inside 

where our truth resides.

So, we hide away from ourselves

and fear discovery

that we are truly

not enough:

not good enough,

not strong enough,

not smart enough,

not wise enough,

not wealthy enough,

not educated enough,

not employed enough,

not courageous enough

to examine our conscience;

to own our thoughts and deeds,

to own our responsibility,

to own our need for love,

for passion,

for resilience,

for endurance,

for persistence.

Better to take time

to watch the game,

to drink at the bar,

to take the drug,

to avoid all blame

for what we refuse

to give away.

And the only way 

this fraud can continue

is to become a con

like so many others.

Great con men become

our saving heroes

and allow us to blame

all The Others

in their name.

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WRITING ON THE WALL

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The swastika was painted on the outside gym wall.

Underneath the words

“Die, fish eaters, die.”

Anti-semitism is broad

and crosses lines

in so many ways.

Victims are sought among Jews,

Catholics, and Romany, too.

No one is excused

from the hate and need to show

that the hater is bigger, stronger,

in control of a world

they feel is out-of-control.

Seeing hate painted on my school

was frightening to see but not the end

of the feelings inside, the birth of my pride.

Cowards in the night sent me such fright.

Unleashing their hate, leashed my own.

There is no place for hate 

in my world, nor yours.

Cowards and bullies never win.

They always over-extend.

Hate destroys them from the inside, not out.

Love builds up inside their victims, then out

it flows to every other sister and brother.

What do I know?

What do I fear?

Not a swastika, nor white hood.

I fear those who refuse to do good;

who remain silent and unmoving

in the face of a racism, sexism,

anti-semitism and hate speech;

who laugh at jokes meant to harm and disarm;

who refuse to recognize the alarm

screaming in protest and marching along

streets paved with prejudice and fear.

Who see the writing on the wall

and walk away to gated communities

and streets paved with gold.

They allow the old stories to take hold.

I walk the streets where the injured gather

amid the brave souls who know what matters,

and protect those under attack.

The brave who insist we take truth and love back.

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HOLY SATURDAY

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Time hangs suspended in the tomb,

rolled back behind a solid stone

chasing thoughts away

of what occurred yesterday.

Shrouded in a mystery

foretold by history

evil reaches across the space

where fearing loss of power

the great losers rage by the hour.

We helped create our own purgatory,

where all we do is worry

rather than embrace the true reality

we not so suddenly face.

We must roll away the stone

and bring truth home;

look at what we have done

and what we have failed to do.

The stillness of this day must renew

a strength we once embraced with pride.

Now we cower and we hide.

Are we so fearful and so weak

we dare not take a peak

into our shaking souls to see

the selves we have come to be?

Only we. Only we. Only we

becomes our litany.

Only we can stop the hate

that acts upon the institutions

we must rely upon

to uphold law and seek justice

to protect all of us

and this country we proclaim to be

the seat of freedom and democracy.

We must open up our eyes

and roll away the lies

that block this holy space

where salvation will arise.

Vote away the hate.

it is not too late.

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DREAMS OF STATE

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Waking in the half-state

within the space where worlds collide

with no need to run away and hide,

where languages merge to help us realize

our old reality has solemnly died,

we are born anew and lifted high

above the horizon and into the sky

in the arms of the ripening sun

where all new life begins.

Every single day, we turn 

in the arms of stars to find our way.

How wild this earth-turn 

ride around the sun

across our galaxy spiraling wide

into a universe where silent winds blow.

Where we shall land we do not know.

On mornings like this we do not care.

We are content to fly on currents of air,

floating across places yet to be seen,

across new horizons and new sunrises

to worlds we have never been.

We find new courage to open our wings

and finally let our true hearts sing

in praise of the morning sky’s rising

after the night’s long-dreaming sights

to find ourselves newly alive.

We shout with joy, “What a ride!”

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