Tag Archives: faith

D.E.I. and I

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I have stayed away from words, 

breathless, in my grief,

for too long.

Diversity is my faith.

Equity is my hope.

Inclusion is my love.

Each breath I take is a promise

that things will be better someday.

And, they have been for a time,

in places expanding across space,

across multiple divides.

In a school, then university.

In a church, then a community.

Across a state, on national forums

Each breath inhaled the hate,

expanded and expelled love in its place.

Breaths took down barriers, created programs,

enacted policies, changed syllabi,

created courses and news ways of seeing,

new avenues of progress, new ways of being.

The backlash always came,

in drips and drabs, all the same.

But this! This! It is a fearsome game.

It is not D.E.I. which they decry.

They want to see us hold our breath

and die.

They SNAP food from the mouths of babes.

They ask the aged and disabled to work their own miracles,

heal themselves without medic-aid,

waste away, and die.

They place tariffs on those who stood at our side.

Making us all pay more for less to save their pride.

They fill their pockets with our labor,

changing coins to crypto for their greedy favor.

They extort heroes who fight to protect freedom world-wide

so that dictators and killers can be by their side.

They miss the days when the few controlled the many.

They refuse to compete, or share even one penny;

pennies earned from our labor, not theirs.

Lately, it seems we have not got a prayer.

We seldom did. But, do not despair.

What we did have was the freedom to try.

Now, our hard-won freedom to speak and act is denied.

We are being denied the right to even try.

We still have one another, and our God-given rights.

We will never allow those to be shoved aside.

And at the end of this life we shall hold hands and sigh

We tried. 

We tried.

We tried!

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

KEEP REACHING

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Best doors open deep,

without handles, but only

open from within. 

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MUMPISM

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Like lichen I cling

to foundational rocks, loose.

Democracy lost.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025

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Worn and weary I 

run away from words hidden 

in the dark of night.

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Pained and poured out I

slowly ascend the mountain

reaching toward the light.

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Strained and so sore I

peruse the new horizon

coming into sight.

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Battered but brave I

reach into my open heart.

Love overcomes fright.

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MERRY CHRISTMAS 2024

Hope is the deep breath needed to sing Carols

heralding Jesus’ birth.

Hope is the breath first breathed into all living things.

Hope is the breath that softens

the hard contours of defended hearts.

Hope is the breath that soothes

the rough edges of fearful minds.

Hope is the breath that animates

the graceful move to gift our very selves.

Hope is the breath that lifts

the blindness of hateful eyes heavenward.

Hope is the breath that challenges

the world to dream of peaceful, new beginnings.

Hope is the breath that stores

the strength needed for moments when courage is needed.

Hope is the breath that brightens and enlightens

the darkness within each breathless soul.

Christmas is a time for deep breaths filled

with hope to face another moment, day, month, year.

Keep breathing is all that is required to fill

the world with Hope.

Each breath keeps Hope alive.

Merry Christmas with every breath taken

deeper in every way, every day

during the Jubilee Year of Hope.

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Filed under COMMENTARY, POETRY

THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN

Wizard of Oz: Discovering the man behind the curtains a con man and entertainer.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Only one thing is certain.

In your heart, you know it to be true.

The only person who matters is you.

That is the core of democracy,

a republic which is not a theocracy,

nor a monarchy, nor autocracy.

No man or woman will come to save your nation.

Now, pay attention

to school boards and zoning boards,

and definitely boards of election

where you will find your greatest protection.

Watch the mayors, governors and secretaries of state.

Do they make decisions with love or hate?

Vote out those who help keep his curtain closed

before it is too late.

The man behind the curtain is a wizard and a clown

who loves the limelight and will never fight

to keep the nation safe, nor guarantee your rights.

The man behind the curtain entertains himself

by entertaining fear in everyone else.

Those who serve him bow down in disgrace

and forfeit the security of any safe space

to exercise their freedom of ideas.

They can no longer listen to you.

They must do what he says they must do.

He looks for a way to escape.

Leave him to stew.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Only one thing is certain.

That is you.

VOTE!

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Filed under POETRY

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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Filed under POETRY

GRIEF

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Everyone grieves in their own way, so they say.

But, steadfast Grief remains the same.

Lips once tilted in joy, Grief holds tight with the strain

of holding back anger and keeping screams at bay.

Grief tightens the brow and hardens the eye

to hold back the tears which threaten to slide

tearing apart all that we hold deep inside.

Cheeks held too tight crease 

and create runnels where tears may glide.

Grief clutches jaws held fearfully tight.

Once tears escape, will our held-back sobs fight

with a pulse so strong they can never be stopped?

Like a street thug, Grief pounds us into submission

and never takes time to ask our permission.

It pushes us down with pummels fierce and powerful.

Grief uses its bruising punches to keep us sorrowful.

We lie on hard pavements praying for the end to our suffering.

We feel we are losing our grip on reality.

We clutch at old truths, begging help to appear and lessen our sorrow.

Even Grief grows tired over time and lessens its blows.

Help comes when we unclench jaws and scream,  

and shout, and let our tears and fears outwardly flow.

Soften the eyes. Relax the brow. Let the tears flow. 

Tears wash away sorrow that new faith can be planted

in every tomorrow, with new ways to love

and new paths to follow.

Signs of grief always remain in new lines

that furrow about our lips, across the edge of our eyes,

and on necks which will, henceforth, our heads tip

slightly down, with greater humility, a bit.

Over time bruises heal, muscles grow stronger.

We learn we can handle the tough thugs who sit

on the sidelines, hidden in shadow.

We learn love again, embracing those who came to help.

We learn faith again, embracing those who prayed by our side.

We learn hope again, embracing those who helped us to our feet.

We stand again on loving, faith-filled, hopeful feet;

and, find a new path where joy and laughter can leads us.

We see our new selves in the eyes of those we pass.

We are stronger and last longer than Grief ever could.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY,IMMORTALITY

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This day is the last day

that I am able to say

I am seventy-four. 

My aching body feels the score.

I have pushed constantly my rock uphill.

Now, it pauses at the top, momentarily still.

I halt to feel the weight of years gone by,

the laughter and tears, the chuckles and sighs.

I am ready to cross the great divide

and slide downhill as my youth subsides.

It is downhill where I shall find 

my fastest speed of all my time.

The wind feels stronger,

helping my journey, afraid no longer

of what awaits at the end,

or even, just around the bend.

The scenery blurs on the way,

replaced by memories of every past day.

Memories are more sure to my eye

then all that staccato-like flies by.

When I finally reach bottom

I can let the rock roll away, forgotten.

Finally, I can spend my days at play

take off my shoes, grinning teeth on display

and smiling with unbridled joy at the past

sigh to the heavens, “At last! At last!”

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POLLYANNA

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Pollyanna is misunderstood.

She does not smile because 

her world is perfect.

She smiles because 

nothing is.

No disappointment finds its way

to destroy her imperfectly happy day.

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