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Summer Hostage

Our small loop of a street
usually quiet
Today receives a loud grooming
with chain saws
and wood chippers
and diesel trucks slicing
and ruining silence
into anti-solitude.

This is my last day off
until summer school begins
in two sultry weeks.

Morning rain passed through
to breezy summer camp sun,
crisp shade tree shadows
moving slightly within lush grass
waiting for my non-motorized mower.

It feels queer…
I feel queer,
at sixes and sevens
at 67,
to trust that I need
not just more solitude
to become healthy again,
but more silence
to become vocally wealthy
again.

To go
or to stay
here
too near a State highway
trafficking toward two casinos
now more native to American economies
than Native Americans to empowerment.

This last bus
not quite upon us
while thoughts wonder
and feelings wander
about shouting sawers
and clanging chipper
banging my longing
back to a rural dirt dust-path
along side a Michigan Centennial Farm
where I knew breezy
silent
summer encampment days
of solitary
fresh freedom.

I wonder why
we can’t go home again,
Yet I can go back to childhood
solitude served up
in sacred silence
unsettling memories
of childhood freedoms lost.

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Dear Evangelical Brother

Dear Brother,

When we were children
adults often asked us
What do you hope to be
when you grow up?

But, our brothers and sisters
were more likely,
and probably more wise,
to ask
Who would you most hope to become?
To be like?

Which implies, to my unformed ear
and eye,
Which of these adults you know,
or know of,
do you like best
as a mentor
for your own happiest and healthiest,
and most prosperous
future?

I am about to finish reading Iain McGilchrist’s
“The Master and his Emissary.”
And, if I had known Master McGilchrist
as a sixteen year old,
I would probably have said
I want his life
and that’s the guy I want for my BigBrother!
I would be his most zealous emissary.
He’s the one I would become
just alike,
twins if possible.

Twin careers.
Twin ideas.
Twin knowledge and wisdom.
Twin naturality and spirituality
and natural law
and ordered sacredness,
emotionally intelligent communion.

But, that was then
and this is now.
And I wonder if I ever asked you,
not what kind of evangelical Christian
white privileged Western capitalist
doctrinaire thing do you hope to proficiently do
when you finally grow up?

But, instead,
to find the courage to ask you
Who would you,
embodied in Christ,
become like
when you are suffering servanting
in your thirties?

We might have had a lifelong dialogue,
not about creeds and dogma
and theological departures from win/win co-redemptive
cooperative economies,
compared to win/lose capitalist business as secularly usual,
compared to lose/lose degeneratively devilish and bearish economies,
more disempowering long-term climate trends
than empowering hope
faith
love.

We might have thought out loud together
about how Suffering Public and Private Servants
are like a Messiah
like a Bodhisattva Peace Warrior
like a PermaCulture CoOperative Designer
like a Restorative Justice and Win/Win Peace Advocate
like a Green STEAM architect,
a resilient engineer,
or prolific teacher
and skilled listener,

We might hope to combine
gospel references to right-hemisphere Revelationary Sacred Rapture
and healthy left-hemisphere climate preferences
for Evolutionary Secular Promise,

A promised return to sacred/secular
RightWing and LeftWing
become whom we would most like to hear
as faithful health scientists and wealth musicians,

Disciples of sacred wealthy
best means secular healthy
reborn again
reweaving
returning
resiliently recombining
global green Body of Christ experience,
feeling,
thought,
optimally appealing.

I’m sorry for not asking
how I could be a healthier and wiser
gay Christian-Taoist-ZenBuddhist-Native Nature/Spirit Wisdom
inspired and inspiring
younger brother,
more sure with your trust
and inner truths
than without you.

I’m sorry distant homophobic fears
and perhaps anger?
envy?
repulsion?
fear of predation?
(this part remains unclear)
seem to have kept us from mutually asking,
Who would we most like to become like together
when we are in our sixties
and seventies?

And now,
When this question seems more plausible,
and immediate,
I wonder how different, and yet the same,
are our opportunities to experience
this sacred potential
for re-creating loving Earth, together,
fertile,
healthiest wealth of HolySpirit embodiment
celebrating Her sacred historical birth Brother,

Unlike Jacob and Esau,
reconnected by sacred Matriarchal Wombs
culminating in reborn virginal brothers
saved/not-not saved from lose/lose perdition,
partition,
through both universal-human/unitarian-divine
natural Messianic win/win Spirit,
consiliently sacred,
resiliently secular,

Heavenly stardust Fog
embracing global oceanic dark waves,
currents of timeless
flowing potential color and multicultures,
rhythms and patterns and flow designs,
Living Waters,
truth with trust,
Wombs with Ways toward necessary Light,
nights and co-redemptive days

More WiseElder for sinister sacred Right retributive Judge
and golden secular Left restorative Advocate,
still listening compassionately together,
less fundamentally apart,
with good evangelical humor,
more than bad.

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LightSpeed of Communion

I intended to say
when I was young
each day felt too slowly incremental
toward my generation’s time in Earth’s wiser sun,

But my ancient extended hand
keeps writing “exponential”
while incremental
paradox climates of Boomer
boring catastrophic dominance
over shadows summer’s equinox of burning
toxic sun.

I pretend to hope and think
I
and my generation
and my local community
could,
and even should,
invite Earth’s incremental exception,
a golden holiday
within sad degenerative climate history.

But my ancient retreading feet
keep reaching for an internal climate of acceptance
where no exception
could ever think or feel
interdependently left against right
relation.

Incremental eco-unlogical exceptions
to sacred business as everyday win/win left usual
in maturing might is more right
for youth’s wealthy individuation,

Where exponential future acceptance
invites positive climate deviance
in right’s past transgenerative roots,
meditative communal branches,
healthy flowering fluent seeds
of communication

Slowly emerging
through incremental wealth exceptions
to disempowering climates
introducing global experiential eco-village acceptance
for Earth’s most patriotic health empowerment.

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Unfinished Exodus

As Exodus tells his story,
Moses was compelled by God
and then invited,
commissioned by inside/outside Voice,
and bv voices of Israel’s extended people
to lead them through forty desert years
of sometimes nomadic wins
and mostly immigrating losses
in a competitively shared wilderness.

Then,
just as they approached the Promised Land’s border,
now matured
multigenerationally seasoned
regeneratively prepared for entry
into this great Middle Eastern creolization journey
in-between Earth’s secular/sacred history
of multicultural peace-making,
win/win environmental envisioning
and compassionate planning
and cooperative implementation,

Just as Moses could climb a sacred yang mountain
and look across rich heavenly green Promise
in Yahweh’s chosen yin valley
of profoundly interdependent
complexly transcendent
co-presence,

Moses suddenly understood right then
right there,
he would die before he could live
among those who would cross over
to complete this epic historic pilgrimage
toward compassionate climate of Promise,
both secular and sacred majesty,
patriotic epiphany
of resilient
multiculturing
healthy demo/theo-cracy.

I see our post-millennial Boomer regenerative process
restoratively wandering through this win/lose forty year
post-industrial wilderness
toward epic climate pollution risks
and monocultural loss
for polycultural wins
of ego-left/eco-right opportunity.

Here,
with now,
on this very cusp of 2020 robust revision,
I know we will not live
to see health optimizing
resilient Promised land and waters,

Although I have lived and loved to locally
and globally,
personally
and politically,
ecologically
and economically long to grow
together
migrant green integrity.

And my autonomous left hemisphere feels disappointed
sad
unfairly deprived about this unfinished migration,
Frustrated because cooperative liberal love,
active compassion,
is so obviously healthier for all travelers riding Earth,
wealthier than competitive fragmenting mistrust,
conserving climatic rage
about our globally
and locally unfinished industrial business.

At the same time
my dipolar interdependent right hemisphere
remains timelessly silent
on topics of ego-left mortality.

S/he may not distinguish
between first yang-patriarchal inhale
and last yin-matriarchal exhale
because this Zen ZeroSoul,
this Holy Nature/Spirit
is one
with that of Moses,

With all Messianic pilgrims,
leaders,
facilitators,
mediators,
With all bodhisattva peace mentors,
With restorative peace and justice integrity Advocates,
wandering a post-industrial green wilderness.

Polypathic Moses
of Earth’s great exodus Rapture
into unfinished healthier life
wealthier transformational business
of regenerating Promise,
for transgenerating lands and waters,
mountains and river-valleys,
mortally unfinished transcendent Eminence
and immortally interdependent Imminence,
Yang universal being with Yintegral uniting
resilient becoming
yet unfinished Exodus
into climatic healthy Promise.

 

 

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Uncategorized

Blah Friday

I need a vacation
from vacation unbreaks.

Bad Friday
falls seven days after spring break begins,
Which is a break for some kids
and teachers without kids,
but not for grandpa parent me,
and my sociopathic daughter,
who needs the structure of small
specialized classrooms
to get through her most resilient day.

It feels healing to step outside
into softer breezy voices
green with overly optimistic promise
that Everythin gonna be aright.

Rain threatens
yet wide patches of sky blue
promise western horizon hope,
for now

Faith that tomorrow,
which feels unforgivingly far from Now,
yet stuck in Here,
I will wake to compassionate forgetfulness,
lack of memory
of nearly all black bleak Fridays
transpired,
de-valued by my owned
and negligently managed
lack of parental investment
in larger self/other care;
that old ego/eco-balancing
narrow-way game.

Tomorrow,
just another Saturday/Sunday weekend,
between BadFriday wounds
and rainy Monday
school day blues
and jazz dance in the garden
with a Great Turning shovel.

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Historic Traces

Embracing my retiring place
includes not only green and granite geographic dimensions
in space
But also extending back experienced roots
of 264 seasons past
having co-evolved this matriarchal wombing 2020 present

As if co-gravitation of historic time
with current place
were a creative pre-visioned design of space
dipolar co-arising deja-vu choice
to embrace, with coincidental love revivals,
or disgrace, with even more bipolar fear-mongering,

And usually something merely mortal
yet immortally cooperative
in-between what has been competitive Win/Lose explained
and what could become WinWin integrity
of exclaiming dance and song

Embracing my ego place,
How could that go wrong?
While not ignoring ecosystemic health
of this historic evolving space,
sacred integrity of revolving incarnations,
romantic race
toward multiculturing grace,

Withour fear’s least merely secular
ZeroTrace.

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Time InBetween

I seem to remember
a golden post-toddler childhood
in which each day was a journey
ecstatically timeless,
yet within bookends
of coral dawn
and bruised dusk,
between waking from true timeless sleep
and returning to my evoluting inside place
for adventurous pilgrimage,
courage in face of nightmares,
curiosity looking full-face
between inside enchantments
and outside ecstasies.
But now
I am that parent who calls to liturgical dinner,
harvests and buys the victuals,
plans the sacramental meals
on my better focused days,
administers all cleansing rituals,
defends all rights against retributive trespass
and pollution
of sand and soil and water
sacred energy…

Secular disenchantments
distract from Here we are in this inviting,
yet constantly changing,
day for just us Now,
far outweigh sacred enchantments.

Ecstasy feels like a reserve
preserved for early WinWin childhood
on a glorious summer day of liberty,

While mendacity of time’s turbulence,
downdrafts,
push-back,
competitively usual business
projects lack of time for leisurely enchantments
from unseen dawn
through vaporizing dusk,

Two moments of each outdoor day
unlikely to engage my full, ecstatic,
still-parenting old age presence
remembering enchanting golden childhood.

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