Cascading Windows

The first of Earth’s life support systems
to go
was crude oil
Then natural-spiritual gas
Then easily accessible commercial-grade
and scale

Then wood
for crude construction.

Then electric grid energy
then Western
then Eastern colonizing infrastructures
pathologically cascaded
into local-cooperative democracy scale.

While internally cooperative infrastructures
of active love
beauty and grace of
and gratitude for
PositivEnergy Democracy
expanded exponentially,
driven by both Positive cooperative investments
and Negative loss divestments
of WinNow to LoseLater
long-term self disempowering deficit,
rather than WinWin co-redeeming,

Then clean drinking water
pathologically cascaded
away from where it was needed
and toward where seaside communities
entire coast lines
were redrawn,
and boundary issues
of dry nations
and barren refugee states
faded away
from multi-mediated view.

While internally WinWin
cooperative infrastructures
swept revolutionarily in,
like a grateful sacred tsunami,
economic and political cascade,
social and psychological and historical reweaving,
theological and ecological co-regenerative,
reaching toward livable climate needs
as without

For health
as abundant multicultural EarthWealth

With Permaculture Design
ego-ecotherapeutic ZeroZone centering practices,
Psychological PositiveENergy ReStorations,
GoldenRule Therapeutic Justice,
NonViolent, local through global, Peace

WinLose LeftBrain Either/Or
Nature/Spirit dualistic fundamentalism
cascading toward WinWin Both/And eco/theological gratitude,
Positive LeftRight ProLife GreenEnergy STEAM Systems,
gratitude for trust and beauty attitudes.

BadNews closed doors chosen first
are GoodNews open doors
cooperatively chosen WinWin last
yet healthy best.


April Loves

She worships her western horizon
toward the river, sparkling, hinting of lightning pasts and futures.

Leonardo is wrong.
This seems unlikely, perhaps judgmental,
even so, his God clearly reconstructed in his well-owned glorious image,
universal God of Creative Architecture.

But, for her, as she watches bruised red wilt into painfully pale lavender,
over black night’s forest line,
cerebrally alone,
sacredly uniting
nature speaks through Gaia’s full-timed EcoLogos Voice,
sometimes in pastel skies and meadows,
sometimes in relentlessly vibrant green,
sometimes Full Moon, New Moon,…
Rain, Wind, sometimes sublime both on her tin roof, whistling through worn-out window frames.

If God were made in her image,
creation would speak in reasoned fertile seasons of shadow dark, and lightning bright,
synapses of climax, echoing down river valleys
rolling out grand majesty of EcoLogos,
perfect rhythms,
rain beating Earth’s thunderous future.

It would have been more revolutionary
and probably therapeutic,
most certainly lovelier, had Leonardo portrayed God as Earth’s logos voice
swirling light as surf,
tidal river waters gleaming wide at dusk,
narrower in dawn’s first light,
a ribbon flowing light emerging to west
reflecting waters greeting eastern sky enlightenment,
Gaia’s morning river logos
translating Sun’s architectural might.