And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all
For those still paying attention, words have flitted through my mind, for days, weeks, months, a year or more now, I think. Here, then gone. Poof! Just so you know. I haven’t gone away, I’ve just had a hard time catching words.
So much, too much, all at once. I lost my words.
Loss, fear, anxiety, joy, anger, rinse, repeat.
At some point, for me anyway, time stopped, came to a screeching halt, and I retreated to temenos, as I do. Living like some monk, meditating on the moral decay, the fractured trust, the white noise of chaos and immoral servitude to a lie, no longer touched me.
Here, in this place, I’ve tended plants, played with Pika, took her on walks, sunny days, rainy days, winter days, watched the light change, the people change, the times change, I changed.
I, from certain perspectives, have fared better than most, mentally, philosophically, morally. Though not financially.
A more enhanced version of me, I must say.
Simplified, stripped of burdens, left to my own devices, I sought refuge in stems and leaves, and growing mediums, the quality of light, and harvesting rain water.
I’ve thought too much, not enough, and pondered the tragedies of histories punished for their burdens of truth, and consequence. WE the people, they, them, screeching their hollow cries of FREEDOM! We, the woke mob, at odds with conspiracies of evil world cabals, and all the quasi-science snake oil salesmen, ugh, BE GONE!.
And, like sands through an hour glass, these are the days of our lives.
But, I digress.
Now, before our eyes we watch the enemy of my adolescence, in a different disguise, spread lies. Sabre-rattling war cries, defcon 2, bomb shelters, weapons of war rumble across the countryside, as again we watch people die on CNN.
In the air tonight, fear of what tomorrow will bring, to #Ukrainians, to us, them, you and me, don’t they see? And I know that Russians love their children too.
Anti-democracy mogols of spin, spout their propaganda bupkis all over Fox News, shorts of bits and pieces of their lies spew past me on my timeline, and I am not surprised.
Yet, still…
Hope, that thing with feathers, wearing khakis and a humble courage, takes everyone by surprise. Don’t give up, don’t give up, late into the night, as their dawn breaks, so does our hearts.
And we are so far away, safe, watching evil stalk the fields of war ,again, young men and women die for the deranged dreams of another mad man… are we surprised?
Took our eyes away, thought everything was safe, no harm in a few lies, eh? Yes, yes, we know, money is the root of all evil, but they are not ashamed, regardless of what they might say. Just another filthy rich old white guy peddling lies, again, as innocence die defending their democracy.
And yet, to everyones surprise…
So, we watch this fragile new democracy fighting for its life. Tears drip from millions of our eyes, watching their goodbyes, their determined courage turning breweries into Molotov Cocktail creating lines.
We, the free, a continent away, can not even agree on civility, or social responsibility.
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
Emily Dickinson
by PaulaB 