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Sunshine and Hurricanes

Paradise:
Where healthcare receiving
is always as invited
as warm yellow sunshine
after a dark blue hurricane,

Where wealthcare giving
always begins with cooperative invitation
into vulnerable unshaded curiosity,
transparent courage
radiantly shared,

Where our traumas
remain critical exceptions
that prove Earth’s positive energy
democratic health/wealth bicameral rule,

When GoldenRule wealth
of co-passions felt
and personally/politically known
are as common as safe breath restoration
sufficiently resonant from LeftBrain calming Here
through proficiently synergetic gratitude
for RightBrain’s timeless Now

When healthcare receiving
is always as invited
as warm yellow sunshine
after a dark blue hurricane.

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Safe Space

Am I safe now?
Are we safe?

Is it safe to listen here?
To speak of over there?

Is Earth safe to sing?
Safe to dance with?
Safe for new birth?
To spin past romance?

Does life matter
if no one’s noticing?
Remembering?
If no one’s vocation
is to sacredly listen?
while all creation refills silent gaps.

Are we safe now?
Reborn silent angels,
angels of light,
pushing back this dark night.

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Outdoor Sanctuary

I am much more likely to feel like a respectful,
trusting family member
than an entitled warrior,
when outside “property improvements”
than when inside anthropocentric habitats.

Sometimes
even as I approach my favorite sanctuary,
an AllSouls Unitarian-Universalist built structure,
I feel more sacred peace before I open our front door
of intended mutual hospitality
accommodation
conversation
accompaniment on life’s great spirited journey,
than after closed off into merely human monoculturing nature.

It’s not that I see or hear myself
as some great and profound nature mystic.
A post-millennial John Muir
I am clearly not,
although I would like to at least feel myself this communal way.

This contrast between indoor and outdoor trust
and resonance
comes not from feeling trees embrace me
but from me embracing trees
through sight
and sound,
smell,
touch,
occasionally taste, if no humans are watching
with judgmental eyes.

Trees are much more tolerant of my curiosity,
intrusiveness,
than my cousins,
and most of my siblings.

Perhaps tolerance is not the best word choice.
Acceptance sounds more reassuring.
Inviting into co-presence feels too grand,
yet honorable,
worthy of vocational commitment,
loyal

Where indoor mistrust and distrust relationships
speak of selfishly heartless patriotism
and national monoculturing identity
and language and cultural antipathy,
rather than positive integrity
of a sanctuaried people
longing to live free
and comparatively loving lives
under and within paint
and textured sheetrock
looking a bit like bark
if high-end
and if I am feeling generous;
boundaried boxes smelling like chemical toxins.

This unfortunate comparison feels too simple,
for sustained resolution
of internal unsancturied sensitivity,
to notice I need to get out more,
because this means leaving my good faith community behind
as if I were so autonomously strong
in active outside hope and passionately robust love
that I need not hear human stories,
songs,
Need not see and conjoin liturgical non-verbal dance,
sacred rhythms
and patterns of compassionate dialogue,
mutual esteem and support,
appreciation,
warm accompaniment,
not of warriors,
but of peace-builders,
resolvers,
cooperative listeners, prayers
non-predative.

My oppositionally defiant daughter,
when in a forgiving mood,
refers to me as a “Talking Head.”

I find too much truth in her smiling tolerance
of this inflamed ego’s hunger and thirst
for regard
rather than a quieter mutual righteousness
of co-presence,
stalking hearts
inside as necessary for communion’s nurture
and outside as profitable for everyday sane nature.

I respect the limiting fact that pipe organs
and grand pianos
cannot sustain in the rain,
but I also seem to respect the possibility
of rapture in a cappella chant
and fire-circle sanctuary dance
witnessed by trees
and stars,
spoken of only by sacred smoky breezes.

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Fear InBetween Faith

Gratitude’s past grief
brief repast

When re-articulating grief
becomes transparently warm passion,
yet without terrifying overheated anger,
we are together filled with resonantly vulnerable sound
and traumatic sight,

Therein opens new possibilities,
avenues,
tides,
streams,
neurological highways
surfing for resiliently polypathic gratitude,

An experiential reminder,
a virtuous feedback loop,
in which daily reborn life intends love
extends above
down beyond,
deeply rooted within
all Other
awareness;

Grief of anciently fore-shadowed separation
to repair EarthTribe’s loyal gratitude.

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This InBetween Climate

This in-between place
and time
and space
is queer.

Neither the straightforward seer
of new beginnings
nor the recalcitrant rear
of old sweet and sour endings.

Bicameral climates of transition
listen for our most humane imaged left
and see through our most divine beauty right
symbiosis,
complexly bilateral metaphor,
secular and sacred transubstantiation
substantiating disempowering empowerment of creolization,
of co-investments, elite and non-elite,
of left investors
co-arising right effluent divestment
away from competing capital-headed
Business As Usual

In-between lose/lose alpha-point of birth
and win/win omega warm felt beauty
harmonious destiny,

Sacredly holistic resonance
co-passioning left-hemisphere resilient liturgies

Of songs verbally and non-verbally danced
rhythms entranced
co-gravitating with and toward trans-regenerative stories
of competitively deep curious and queer cooperations,
steeped in-between courageous analogical health
as meta-phonic wealth,

Ecologically robust polypaths
toward polyphonic metaphor.

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Polyphonic Metaphor

Sacred music and liturgies
are not merely leaves and flowers
produced by complex and richly branched
and sub-branched analogies,
between ecological and theological root metaphors
of co-arising nurture;
between naturaLeft and spiritualRight co-experience
of Earth’s spiraling revolutionary nutrition;
East to West horizoned
healthy light intention.

Each regeneration absorbing fertile flowering fruit
to recreate communal caring communication
climax
through primal musical vibrant metaphor
of ego-death mortality
compassioned yintegrity
repurposed into regenerational eco-lives,
past through future win/win epic intentions,
virtuous virality of EarthTribe’s manic DNA
for thriving health
as wealthy Yangish solo anthems.

Each courageous ego
a metaphor for Earth’s curiously spiraling revolution
iconic of DNA’s bilaterally rising and falling structural evolution,
curved waves
yang and yin spherical iconic metaphors
for left and right cranial hemispheres
emerging informed by patriarchal Western predative history
and nondualistically reformed Eastern enculturation
cooperatively co-parasitic;

Creolizing curious white light supremacy
as not not color multicultural sublimation,
monocultural suppression,
both/and polyphonic and polypathic
right-brain resonant
so also left-brain super-resilient
multicultural ecological co-empowering
monocultural theology
supplanting ego’s pursuit of monotheistic disempowering
from-above wealth

Of communally sung and danced metaphor,
sacred silent
replete with secular vibrations,
seductive and reductive,
inductive and deductive
co-arising ego/eco-sublime
metaphoric muse
of cultured octave scale
and tone
and hue;
vibrating tables of eight-fold elements
eco/theo-logically metaphonic
cooperative caring communion
both/and disunion.

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Climate Rise Up

As I write this, thousands of people are gathering to listen with each other, to sing, perhaps to dance more than walk in striking solidarity for climate health. I have been thinking of this moment, this event, this day, this strike on this sacred Earth all week.  And, each time this gathering comes to mind, so does Cassandra Batie and Jennifer Decilveo’s 2016 anthem, “Rise Up.”

This variation on Batie and Decilveo’s lyrics I sing in tears of joy and deep sorrow with those who are on their way, drawing near toward the sound and sight of each others’ voices.  I would love to join you in person, but old bones and heart and mind have learned that my climate anxiety flares into manic hope at such events, and then I pay the suicidal ideation price on my way home, feeling alone, hopeless.

I believe for every face and voice seen and heard at a Climate Strike gathering around the world today, there is at least another, and probably several others, with you in swelling heart, in passionate mind, in loving soul, but, like me, have learned that our Great Transition role, however resonant, will best remain resilient as we Rise Up on our front porches and back yards, in our forests and ocean shores, on our rivers and lakes, to sing to Earth’s tired trees, to dance to aching birdsong, to remember when we were young, more hopeful, more proud of what we can yet accomplish within Earth’s sacred solidarity.

Humbled now, this is dedicated to those more visible, to know we are millions already belonging together within this shared Great Transition, Great Turning, Great Reweaving with you; and with gratitude to Cassandra Batie and Jennifer Decilveo for Rise Up, embodied and well-sung hope.

I have been your living Earth;
I will live and die through you.

I will be your blood born sap;
You will live and die with me.

This Great Transition
into owning competitive responsibility
for climates of pathology and health,
inward and outward,
composed of all past energies,
small co-arising transitions
reweavings
regenerations
now contained in Earth’s soil,
Her rebirthing baptismal waters,
Her buoyant air,
Her fertile winds
and purging fires.

Earth’s broken down
and tired
of living love
on this unmerry-go-round,

And I can’t see Her lovers
but I hear life in you
so we gon’ rise Earth up,
Move mountains,
we gon’ walk love out
and heal oceans.

And we’ll rise up,
We’ll rise each Earth’s day,
We’ll rise up,
We’ll rise unafraid,
We’ll rise up
and we’ll love life a thousand times again;

And we’ll rise up
high like Earth’s waves,
We’ll rise up
in spite of life’s ache,
We’ll rise up
and give love a million times again,

For Earth,
For you,
Earth, for you;

When our silence isn’t quiet
and it feels like we’re growing hard to breathe
and we know Earth feels like dying,
Then I promise we’ll raise the Earth to Her feet,
Heal forests,
Bring Earth’s tribes to our feet
and move mountains.

All we need,
All we need is hope
And for faith we have each other,
And for peace we have each other;

And we will rise
we will rise
we will rise
we will rise,

We’ll rise like Earth’s day
We’ll rise up,
We rise unafraid,
We rise up
and we’ll love life a thousand times again,

And we’ll rise up
high like Earth’s waves,
We rise up
in spite of hate’s ache,
We rise up
and Earth does love a million lives again.

For Earth,
We will rise
we will rise

We will rise
for you,
Earth will rise with you.

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