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Seeking Sanctuary

Diaspora Dwellings

On my way into our sanctuary
this past Sunday morning
a woman I had met in choir
was strangely inclined
to share her family history.

Her dad came over from Ireland
because he wanted better opportunities
for his healthy future.

Here he meets his wife
and they have kids
who also have kids
now living the post-millennial nightmare
of what the TrumpCard worshiping U.S.
has most degeneratively isolationist become.

I mentioned that I had never been.
My made-in-Ireland newsboy hat
had only hung in U.S. pubs,
mostly not so green as we might wish,
and had only covered my North American dreams
of a more robust wealth
of future health
for myself
and my African American husband
and our four adopted brown-skin wounded kids
with mental and physical,
mind and body,
spirit and soul uncompetitive challenges.

Challenges now further threatened by bleak climate choices
to pursue RightWing Business As Assault
Competitions to extract Earth’s ecofeminist original values
faster
and faster
and harder thrusting against naked wombs,
angry and filled with fear
we cannot hoard enough power
against the Great Winter
of our own LeftBrain dominant
paranoid prophecy.

And increasingly schizophrenic,
don’t you sometimes inside-outside Voices think?
My new fellow diaspora migrant added,
cooperatively curious,
and not at all competitively overpowering.

Before cars
and planes
and trains,
Before carriages
and carts
and wheels
Irish moms and dads would never have imagined
their homes
as other than our future home,
as other than great-great grandkids home
as it was on into a distant WiseElder
health-rooting past projecting future health.

Diaspora dreams
would have been just for tribal survival reasons,
I suppose.
Which sounds eerily like how I feel
about my kids WiseElder future prospects
challenged by angry supremacist voices,
classically un-evangelical,
philosophically dividing sinful ego-natures
from virtuous eco-spirits…

Yet these are what God originally created together…
Well, I get sidetracked
when I gaze into this awesome abyss
of LeftBrain’s curious diaspora nature
returning to RightBrain spiritual sanctuary
of what paradise Earth could become
after Her diaspora integrity returns.

Where our children can EarthTribe thrive again
by cooperative work and play with our conservative challenges
mental and physical
theological and ecological
spiritual and natural
secular and sacred
liberal healthy while conserving wealth
of deep learning democracy
for challenged diaspora solidarity.

I think about leaving the U.S.
especially in the last couple weeks,
and the last couple years,
now that I think of empty hearts and diamonds adulation
while never once mentioning darker promises
of clubs
and non-elite spades for burying our drowned
and burned
and shot.

This feels less and less like a healthy
safe
cooperative democracy for my wounded diaspora kids
to learn how to play WinWin games
rather than WinLose patriarchal lies
against the cultural wealth potential of equality
for matriarchal
WiseElder
ecofeminist
healthy RightBrain curious climates…

Inclusive of wounded,
voiceless,
brown-skinned children.

Precisely.
Me Too,
my Irish diaspora friend
sadly added,
thinking about her own adult children
increasingly uncomfortable about their distance
dissonance
and lack of hope in co-investment,
fading faith in loyalty to EarthTribe’s diaspora
cooperatively engaging our co-migrating selves.

But my own dad’s
and mom’s journey
began in the MidWest,
and their mom and dads came from Europe,
and their moms and dads
came from migrant EarthTribes
before carriages
and carts
and diaspora enabling wheels.

Where could we go
that could guarantee safe and healthy water,
regenerate soil,
fresh and liberally democratic conserving sanctuary,
bicamerally resonant consciousness,
robust ecological with theological WinWin culture,
cooperative egalitarian intent and design,
restorative justice,
peace for planet,
plants,
and people?

I assume that’s a rhetorical diaspora question.

She invited me to a potluck dinner
in her non-Irish home.

I continued my journey
into our migrant gathering sanctuary,
wondering about souls and wonder and imagination
before curious carriages
and courageous carts
and even simple wheels,
when horses and trees were our whispering neighbors
and prophets predicting healthy grass and water
satisfying next seven regenerations
of challenged children
hoping for their healthy chances
to become tomorrow’s WiseElder sanctuaries.

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