Speaking Now in the Whirlwind

13 June, 2009

 

I see the hand

that holds the brush

That yields the blade

That broke the silence

Written in the fire

across your face

As you awaken beside me

 

I see the hand

that plows the earth

that plants the seed

that holds the matches

Written in the ashes, drifting in the morning

After the bonfire

 

I see the eyes

that sang of roses

That stilled the armies in shining valleys

Speaking now in the whirlwind

O symphony of sky

 

I hear the voice

That carved the granite

That filled the cup

And from it rivers

Falling now in joy, into the circling ocean

As we walk the endless shoreline

One eye on the waves.

What a day this will be

 

I see the eyes

that sang the bonfire

Speaking now in the whirlwind:

What a day this will be

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Published in: on October 12, 2011 at 5:24 pm  Leave a Comment  

Again, now is the time

Journal entry from 2-19-1998

The internet/computer-media/infotainment age we are entering is the final triumph of industrialism. It may not, however, last long. At one and the same time we are entering a time of regionalism, renewed community ties, volunteerism, self-awakening, cultural and creative diversity.

The two trends are somehow running in parallel. The latter, I suppose, is the natural reaction and response to the former. The bigger grows the machine the more people will learn to escape its grasp. Even as it triumphs, human biology and culture will have learned to transcend it precisely because we are human, of nature, intextricable with the wild world.

Published in: on October 11, 2011 at 1:08 pm  Leave a Comment  

Now is the time

I wrote this in my journal on Jan. 31, 2009. Now is when it was really about.

People will rail and rail against the seeming end of the easy times. They will demand of politicians a return to them. They will fail to see the enormous gift that is the end of high-flying easy-credit consumerist industrialism. But they’ll come around, if nothing else out of sheer necessity. That’s what this new time is about. Back to earth. Back to reality. The “working out” into a new pattern will take awhile. It will be tulmultuous. It will be challenging for practically everyone. I will also be enormously exhilarating and joyous for those who choose to experience it that way, to embrace it and enter into the spirit of the thing.

Published in: on October 7, 2011 at 9:12 am  Leave a Comment  

Maybe I Know Nothing

Maybe I Know Nothing  (8 Dec. 2007)

*

I see your expression as you open the door,

A falcon with your treasure.

Your call is frightening to the untrained ear

I hope I can keep the secret.

*

But something’s different this time:

I don’t think it’s just the light.

Something is carving marks

Into your granite

Little noises from the fault-line

Where now is just a plain

Soon a mountain crashing skyward

As you whisper

*

And you reach out your hand

The way you always do

But there’s something new

About the way you touch my skin

Once a leopard on the prowl

Seeking flesh for her children

Now content

To lie alone in the tall grass.

*

I step inside

Like every time before

And even though a waltz is playing

We just sit down

And wait

And wait

for the blue of early morning

*

And maybe I know nothing

Yes maybe I know nothing about these things.

Published in: on October 6, 2011 at 2:02 am  Leave a Comment