trumping hate

In disaster, in crisis,
in times of trauma,
that is when we see
the capacity of humans
to selflessly extend a hand,
some help, a smile.

I believe this ability
is strong in everyone,
but some   people
have forgotten
it is there.

In this dark time,
when loud voices
would have us believe
hatred and division
have won,
we see people rising in response,
saying "This is not the world
we want to live in."

Perhaps this darkness
is forcing us to shine our lights
more brightly than before,
perhaps this is a time of transformation
of human consciousness
I have to believe
kindness and love
will always
trump hate.

Incongruity

onewed.com

There was a psychopath
lurking in the church,
and in no time,
he was marrying her daughter.
While the pastor beamed,
the prayer group laid on hands
and beseeched God
that there would be
a miracle.

The gaslight gleamed.
Shadows flickered on the wall.
The guests were gaily dressed,
but uneasy.
There were songs of love and joy,
- they were a handsome girl and boy -
but her mother felt
peculiarly queasy.


for Shay's prompt at Fireblossom Friday, over at Real Toads: Incongruity: to write about a scene where nothing was as it seemed.

I Meet You There

source

When I see you,
I see you
not as Other
but as Same:
a human being
with your challenges and struggles,
your joys and tears,
your light striving to outshine
the darkness
that surrounds you.

The journey for each of us
is the journey of becoming
who we were meant to be,
climbing the mountain
of self-worth,
coming home
to ourselves.

I see your passage
through the fire,
the imperfect pilgrimage
which was much the same
as mine.
I applaud your spirit's rise,
our souls like bright suns
emerging from
the night-time of solitude.

I see in you
our shared humanity,
and, man or woman,
insofar as it is possible,
I meet you there.


written for Susan's prompt at Midweek Motif: Gender

The Tribe's Magic Person

source

In the Old Ways,

those who embodied

the spirit of a man

and the spirit of a woman

in one person

were considered doubly blessed.

They were the gifted ones,

the tribe's magic person.

They were the visionaries, 

the prophets, the healers.

They were the medicine people,

the keepers of creation stories.

The elders say, aho,

now the seventh generation has come,

when two-spirited people

are restored to their 

traditional and respected roles,

all of Turtle Island

will begin to heal.

May it be so.

for Susan's prompt at Midweek Motif: Gender. The Two-Spirited people have always fascinated me. I love the idea of them being the tribe's magic person.

Sources:
Rainbow Resource Centre
Canadian Encyclopedia: Two-Spirits
First People
Two-Spirit

Distraught Sister Moon

source

Distraught Sister Moon,

I see you up there, pacing around,

wringing your hands,

"what to do, what to do, what to do?"

Down below, all hell is breaking loose:

bombings, shootings, drought,

famines, floods, melting icebergs,

forest fires,

wildlife fleeing in terror,

with no where to hide,

dangerous people with bad hair

behaving badly.

I see you trying to efface your fullness

quickly, perhaps thinking

if you lessen your roundness

the populace can return to calm

under a slice of moon.

But when were we last calm?

Between the dinosaur era 

and Cro-Magnon,

was there once an age 

of hunting and gathering,

feasting and rejoicing,

before My Cave and Your Cave 

became issues and clubs started swinging?

By your light, madmen and prophets collide.

By your light, poets seek truth and beauty.

By your light, we dream of a better world.

You have stopped pacing.

You like where this is going.

Okay, hear this:

By the Light of Your Silvery Moon,

on earth we dream, we dream,

we dream of peace.

from July 2016, shared with the Tuesday Platform at Real Toads. Reference is made to the old old song of my childhood in the closing lines.

Saturday by the Sea

This morning, the sun was shining, so the beach was calling. When I got there, the road was lined with cars from one end to the other. Every surfer on the West Coast must have been there. 

The waves were spectacular. A cacophony of hoots, laughter, joyous shrieks and happy dog barks

filled the air, counterpoint to the roar of the waves.

When a photo opp like this walks by, one must be swift with her camera to capture it. The surfers watching them pass seemed to appreciate the beauty as well. 

I like to play with my camera at the edge of the water, trying to capture the changing patterns on the sand as the waves withdraw. So I was standing there, back to the ocean, when suddenly a big wave rushed in, filling my boots, soaking my jeans to the knee, and almost knocking me down. I emerged nonchalantly, cane tap tap tapping, pretending the immersion was intended. LOL.

I came home with my heart singing (and with a jelly doughnut for dessert tonight.) I tell you, life doesn't get much better.

Dancing the Paradigm

conservationalliance.com

As the planets shift their orbits
in the heavens,

a time of change on earth arrives.

Thought:
what would happen if we
expanded our perspective
wide enough to change,
not just a relationship,
a circumstance, a limitation,
but the entire paradigm -
if we breathed an evolution, a revolution,
an expansive flowering
of every good intention,
transforming them to action,
a New Way a-borning?

What would happen if we:
bought no plastic,
watched and participated in no violence,
ate no trauma from factory farms,
nurtured our children well,
believed - truly believed - in Joy?
recycled, reused, reduced,
rejected excess, embraced simplicity,
and loved ourselves and our neighbour?

Solstice wish:
May we trip the light fantastic,
prancing and cavorting
like giddy reindeer
under a waning polar moon,
conga into April sunshine with hopeful feathers
all aloft and glistening,
caper into the dawn, vibrant and smiling
and never so alive!

Come spring, I shall pull on the moss
like socks,
and tiptoe through the forest
like a sprite.
I will dip a tip-toe
into the Pond of Peace,
and set my dreams alight
with the shine of sunset
beside the western sea.

Never before,
has there been
such a springtime of Possibility
as now I see.

from spring, 2014, which I will share with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United, where it is Possible to find some very fine reading with your coffee on a Sunday morning. Smiles.