Dream

news photo from google

Dream, all you crones

and creaky-jointed crooners.

Where's the kind of hope

we had when we

were young?

Lay your tired head

upon your pillow

for we have to finish

what we have

begun.

Dust off those castles in the air

we once envisaged.

Polish your granny glasses,

lace up your high-top boots.

To the eastern sea

let's take our pails and shovels. 

To the polls

let's take our trust

and faith and roots.

When it is the hardest 

to have hope,

we still

must have it,

though it's difficult

with so much 

we could grieve.

Dream me a dream

and waltz me round

the kitchen.

Tell me we'll be okay

and I'll believe.

Well, kids, believe it or not, my shiny optimism has taken a big hit, with the devastation of the eastern seaboard. When I watched An Inconvenient Truth years ago, and saw the shores of New York underwater, it was terrifying. It was even more terrifying when it was not a projection but a reality, on my tv screen.

There is so much to be done and the System, in the stranglehold of the multinationals, just cant move fast enough to effect significant change. Especially in a country with two nearly equal political parties. We could teeter totter back and forth every four years, one party making some progress, then the other party tossing that out and starting over.

It takes a lot to discourage me but tonight I am discouraged.

Tomorrow will dawn regardless. Good luck to us all, on Planet Earth.