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Respect for ActiveHope

My thought for this day,
although still early,
is respect for hope.

Respect for our interdependence
and respect for our challenging differences,
important, yet hopefully not as powerful
as our interdependent love for healthy life.

Yesterday
I noticed a brown cardboard box
in the corner of a reception area
for our Infectious Disease Clinic
with a black marker sign above
“Books–Free to Give and Take”

There were only two books to take,
hard to estimate how many might be given.
Both of these current residents of the box,
waiting for their next conversational partners,
were written by a Senator Barack Obama.

One,
a biographical heritage journey
about living between society’s generous giving
and sometimes breathtaking taking
and stomping on differences
within primarily interdependent identities.

The title of the Senator’s other book,
“The Audacity of Hope” grabbed me
in part because,
by the time it was published,
the author was also a candidate
for the US Presidency,
and in part because of the way we are now living
in response to an AntiAudacious Hope Administration
reading from a script
to incarnate the reverse side,
“The Mendacity of Hopelessness”
of despair,
of nihilism,
of fake-piety,
of false nationalistic AntiEarth hubris

Marketed in red, white, and blue gift wrap
as [AntiMatriotic] Patriotism,
with sales remaining somewhat more pathological in Red States
than Blue and Green, maybe Turquoise,
or AquaMarine,
but defined as not-Red
as Red is confined to not
“The Global Audacity of CreativeHope.”

Susan Belden
lyrically asks
How do you love those who hate you?

We see some response in teachings of Jesus;
to turn the other cheek,
to walk a second enslaved by force mile,
to turn rifle associations into farming and gardening tools for good,
although this last one was a remix from Old Testament Prophets.
Tools for respecting interdependence
but also multicultural differences
still in creolizing process.

It is easy to hate Donald Trump,
or to see him as the Emperor without AudaciousClothes
of Grace
for Healthy Faith
as his unfortunate choice and lot in life.
Even easier
to go back and forth between these two,
blaming and shaming.

It is harder to hate those who voted for him.
Although I have an obsessively troubling place in my dissonant heart
and mind
for those who profess to be evangelists for a God of Love and Peace
but also profess their eager willingness to vote yet again
for The Nakedly Sexist and Supremacist Apprentice again.

Like the Body of Christ
continuing to empower the Head Pharisee.

How do you respect those
who build their futures
on disrespecting you
and yours
and your healthy futures?

How do you play Win-Win
with those who persist in the delusion
our only RealTime life option
is Win-Lose or Lose-Lose?

I suspect it is this Lose-Lose non-option
that disrespects our mutual economic
and political
and personal
and vulnerable fears,
our lie-group
proving what Win-Win would invite toward respect.

It is in witnessing what happens
when we take this risk of turning
our appositional faces
that we can invite
mutual respect
for the audacity of Win-Win non-violent healing.

It is when we walk this double-binding extra walk
with those who disrespect integrity and hope
and faith
and multiculturing love,
that we are more likely to discover
our own lack of strength
to remain vulnerable to shared evils
of ego-centrism
and anthro-centrism
lurking within our own hearts and minds

And bad faith harboring mendacity
and apathy about past violent colonization,
where empathy
and creolizing curiosity
and respect
could invite interdependent hope.

My audacity of hope
lies in faith
we always have a political and personal option
that is a Win both for our ego’s economic future
and for our Earth’s ecological future.
That this is true for healthcare giving
and receiving accessible to all Earth’s residents
and constituents,
whether voters or not even enfranchised,
whether we could even bear to hear their votes for respect
and not for disrespect,
or not.

Restoring Win-Win life options always optimizes peace outcomes,
audacious hope outcomes,
mutual respect for our inductive interdependence first,
and our deductive differences secondarily,
and contingently
compromising suboptimal democratic intent
settling for short-term Win-Lose outcomes,
leaving less room for love of complex internal multicultural rights
than hate for external monoculturing chaotic wrongs.

Infectious Disease Clinics
are good places for more Audacious Hope
and democratic multiculturing Love.
But so would any classroom,
so would the Parent rack
of any bookstore–
required reading for any healthcare legislator,
any ecopolitical policy maker,
any person wanting to grow hope
as respect first for our living interdependence,
second for loyal and gratefully shared differences
feeding further curiosity
and deeper empathy
and stretching faith in respect
across extending nature-spirit families
sharing this one global sacred Habitat

Concelebrating many liturgically evolving flags
all blowing in our shared
audacious winds of hope.

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Faithful to Love

For Paul,
originally Saul,
and first generation Christians,
growing in spiritual development
and natural Body of Christ health
begins with hope,
becoming cooperative faith
in potentials not yet seen
or smelled
or felt,
emerging full-blown love without monoculturing
sectarian limits,
even without monotheistic limited anthro-centric imaginations
living fully within four-dimensional SpaceTime
RealTime equivalence.

For Enlightenment ForeFathers,
and Sacred Matriarchal Mothers,
and their first generation democratically developing kids,
worried about past and future plutocratic threats
to our MotherLand,
while growing in spiritual and natural
and political and economic health,
begins with three core values:

1. Life, which is not yet threatening climates and landscapes of death.
Cause for positive Earth-patriotic hope.

2. Liberty,
which is freedom from competing dissonance,
decay,
degeneration,
death.
Cause for good news faith in mutual cooperativity,
for WinWin
nonzero-sum,
positive emerging ecopolitical outcomes.

3. Pursuit of happiness,
which is freedom from pathology,
violence,
retributional punishments,
terrorizing military-industrializing mutually assured destruction
of ourselves,
our kids,
our planet
through ballistic technologies
designed against ego and eco-sacred peace therapies

And designed for adding further strength to already plutocratic threats
against stronger trusted multicultural global non-totalitarian democracy,
love of benign cooperativity,
between individuals and nations and species,
both natural and spiritual cultures of health care giving
and restorative justice as peace receiving
Grace of love
to grow further multicultures
of EarthTribe Enlightenment Happiness,
both Sacred and secular
Positive Health-Love.

These are what our parents meant to share with us,
our schools intended to listen for within us
to restore healthy democratic trust and hope,
responsible freedoms of good multiculturing faith,
authoritative secular/sacred research
in these ecopolitics of loving cooperative global happiness,
for first generation gospel tellers
through Enlightenment progenitors of democratic Welfare
to create a more perfect Union
without plutocratic,
fascist,
or fundamentalist monoculturing uniformity,
dissonance,
decay,
degeneration of PureLove’s perfecting Happiness.

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Apple Farmers on Trump’s Administration

I was interviewing farmers
about how they see Presidential performance
in Trump’s first year as CEO
of this USA,
incorporated
for a yet more perfect Union:

Well, I believe he only has one national leader
who has publicly announced
that he will do whatever he can
to kill him,
and probably take out the rest of us
along his nuclear warhead way.

So, is that a concern
or congratulations
or both?
How does that performance number compare to your predicted outcomes?

Oh, I figured maybe more than one
by now.

Because…

I thought his
“I’m taking America Out First”
assault on the Paris Climate agreement
might generate a more immediate heating up
of the world’s international firing range.”

I’m still confused
about whether you are giving him a pass,
because you didn’t really think any national leader could do anything
to advance your peace of mind,
or whether you are disappointed
with the Trump administration’s performance
this first year.

That would make it at least two of us.
But, let me tell you,
I believe he may be the first President
to publicly threaten to turn an entire,
or maybe just a half, nation
into a nuclear holocaust.

So he’s threatening with the biggest stick so far.
Are you hoping to see that escalate
or de-escalate?

We’re all kind of hoping things might calm down.
Nuclear waste is really hard on the apple harvest.
Hard to grow apples without the basics,
like trees,
or folks to plant
and pick
and eat from them.

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Eyes of a Dying Wolf

I looked through the eyes of a dying wolf
to see fires flaming out our horizon
as long as this wild wolf had seen.

He saw a time
when seizures
were currencies of sorcerors,
shamen and shawomen
born of supremely loving matriarchs.

Seizure medicine knew its own advent
echoing sources speaking dreams of manna geese
flying home for our first through last
Win/Win Thanksgiving Day
through fire extinguishing night.

Thanksgiving Peace Dreams
after fires and erupting volcanoing
seizures,
and also before peace dreams of hope-fired relationships,
responsible as authoritative Win/Win faith,
respect for powers of multiculturing love
over monoculturing fears
of fires for volcanoed hate
of gun-fires flaming out horizons.

I looked through the eyes of a not yet dead wolf
to see fires of restorative justice
for Thanksgiving Days and Nights of Peace
sweeping all Win/Win full-fired horizons
of Wonder as Sacred Flaming Awe.

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WinWin Invested Wombs

Before dimensional
discontinuous investment returns
of MotherLand
there was a water womb
of continuous gifts
growing through primal matriarchal relationship
of deep gifting vulnerability.

Intimate wonder comes prior to thoughts
of becoming more deeply connected,
invested,
in both natural and spiritual ways.

Warm water womb
births landscapes
for exploring nature-spirits,
whether emerging from a distended womb
or a fertile egg
or a vulnerable seed
filled with wondrous unfolding potential integrities
of previously well-Landed interrelationships.

Restorative justice and peace
originates here,
in water’s intimate embryo
fueled by a gift economy of WinWin Wonder
predicting politically powerful cooperative relationships
should we Land
and continue regeneratiing
restoring Zero-Sum balance
love
harmony
grace
synergy
between Yang passions of well-wombed egos
and yin’s restorative wombs
sufficient
perfect
nutritional nurturing integrity
of purpose
with healthy intent,
vocations reweaving wealthy Landed cultures
born of EarthMother’s vulnerable
intimate politically double-bound warm waters.

For there to be retributive Land beneath our exhausted feet
there was first restorative water
to welcome our potential gifts.

For us to become filled with Earth’s spatial wonders
there was first a timeless bilateral gift economy,
sufficiency as grace
through vulnerable sacred nurturing,
secular nutritioning,
WinWin dipolar exchanges,
wealth of healthing Wonder.

Before the dualism of landscapes
there was water immersion.
Before restorative water,
waves of redistributive winds.
Before winds of time and change and revolutions,
sacred WinWin Wonder.

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Teaching Integrity of Peace

What is our primal purpose
for continuing this troubling relationship?
asked Yang of Yin.

If you are clueless
then you have not been listening
to us
as actively as nondual times would predict,
replied Yin against Yang.

For me,
this purpose is to enjoy Sacred MotherEarth,
but I preferred to hear yours first,
again,
your speaking grace
where silence contemplatively rules,
replied Yang more gently back to Yin.

As we both well know,
for me
each space is time sufficient
for ecological gratitude,
neither mere secular reasons of nature
nor more romantic euphoria of serene spirits
planting as you harvest what we more cooperatively nurture,
defined Yin toward Yang.

We are
this yintegrity of gratitude
for enjoying MotherEarth’s outdoor Golden Ruling places
Golden Ratio Voices
Golden Elixir Schools for learning sacred ecology,
ecopolitics of cooperativity
as geese form immigration journeys
as co-emigrant bilateral functions of democracy
riding winds back and forth above waters
washing streams of cooperative fertile time,
integrity of you and me
as spacetime wu-wei We,
sings Yang while Yin dances
through mutually enjoying gratitude,
singing grace
dancing rhythms
of EarthMother’s fire-circle ecstasy.

What are primal relationships
for continuing this troubling dance?
asked YinWater under YangWinds
revolving Sacred EarthTime
together integrity.

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Summer of ’67

My canopy of early summer sounds
in 1967
was as intimate as adolescent knowledge
might ever become.

My sixteenth summer
sweetly smiled with driver’s permit,
my first job,
economic promise while the Beach Boys
and the Beatles sang a rainbow
of boy band diversity,
sang stories of straight white male revolutions,
evolutions of June firefly evenings
resounding bullfrog and cricket background vocals
on our family farm,
where good Christian Republicans
longed for good old Eisenhower years
when Father was wise
and always knew best,
and Vietnam was no more than an acrid draft
of wasted social
financial
political
environmental
nutritional capital,
not yet fully present.

This summer of 1967
was when I knew both anguish of embodied defeat,
hopelessly homosexual,
an yet poignancy of emerging mystical wonder
about what this could mean
fifty years from now.

I could not help fantasizing
how Paul and Art
might not only sing,
but dance, in poignant harmonies.

And,
as much as I laughed and loved and longed
to hear Stevie Wonder wondering
and Otis Redding wanting,
Marvin Gaye worshiping,
I so wished they could sound even better
with me.

Joni Mitchell
and Joan Baez
and Judy Collins,
like John Lennon,
were compelled to write and speak and sing
songs of love as freedom
growing transcendent
yet deeply fertile
Aquarian promise.

A promise bombed out
by uncivil wars
bound by fear of egocentered failure.
Fear our parents,
and half of my junior year classmates,
found compelling enough to throw away dollars
to build and buy
and transport
and explode bombs and bullets and boys,
nearly oblivious to hundreds of thousands of innocent men
and mothers
and children wiped out
by a mere strategic choice
to cover partisan ass
as the biggest baddest bully
on Earth’s shrinking block.

I didn’t blame him,
but when I called James Taylor
to rescue the Johnson and Nixon White Houses,
he did not come,
as promised,
to rescue me,
to remind us about our friend and family connections
across cosmic time
and Earth’s regenerate space.
A great ballad was just not enough.

In June of ’67
I was singing both “I Believe”
and “Love is Blue”
with equally honest passion
and thriving off a translucent vulnerable cover song
between these two impossibly incommensurable positions,
surrounded by straight evangelical predators,
sniffing for pinko faggot weakness.

I was so guilty
yet so in love with rightness
and ripeness
of my generation’s possibilities
for revolutionary integrity,
drawing together economic health
with political wealth
in some new golden ruling age
of relentlessly cooperative incorporation
and association
and ownership
and self-governance.

In this early summer of 1967
Martin and Bobby still walked with us
and one still dreamed he might see
someone who looked and thought and felt like him
as President one day
and the other I dreamed would become President
while I was still a high school junior.

So much devastation and disappointment followed.
It took at least a decade
and hundreds of thousands of human lives
treated like conscripted fodder
for nationalistic hubris of false pride
to arrive at the very treaty
our Vietnamese opponents had originally demanded.
And long before anyone from the U.S.
had been drafted and killed
for this offensive cause
of nationalistic non-defense.

Other health care and defense abuses
and losses
followed.
Neglect of women’s health.
Pedagogical loss of children’s deep ecological listening opportunities
to nondually co-arise with Earth’s polyphonic voices,
resources of multiculturing nutrition.

Yet I have these summer of ’67 memories
when,
for one diastatic season,
my revolutionary age on planet Earth
stood between despair of guilt
for what and whom I could never become
and celebrating hope for joy
of what we might yet reweave
timelessly singing and dancing
chanting and drumming
revolutioning and evolutioning together.

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Evening Rainsong

Alone again
yet evening rain falls
cooling fresh breeze voices
anxious for everything,
angry about nothing.

Nothing to do about rain falling
as sure as gravity
of dripping issues
landing in my lap,
splattering naked children’s sleepy heads
and innocent soft shoulders.

Into each life…
Yes,
yet eventide rains inside voices
wet down dwindling life
of tiring consciousness.

If I could not read or write or speak
who would I sing with in new found leisure?
Scattered lyrical thoughts
of painful rain
for evening’s loss of light,
and dawn’s dew drop evaporations
raising praise for might
of rain rising up yet again
to grace some other’s night.

We each sing with rain dying alone,
a humanic nature feeling trapped
alien emigrant returning home
to Earth where all creations fail and fall
to rise again singing through new voices
and hues,
spectral rhythmic
dances of songs and cries
each our lived together owned,
rising up new throated sounds
disintegrated symphonies
of song sung out
toward tomorrow’s rain clouds
capturing moist radiant waves,
wet sounds of song
well-lived yet bound.

I hear too complex songs for living,
polyphonic evening rains
falling down alone
to rise again belonging songs
evaporating praise,
leaking radiance
gathering together.

Into and through each flowing melody
of rebaptising life
dirged this night alone
yet heard as well-sung rain forever.

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Great Commissions/Small Omissions

In all things, give thanks.

Surrounded,
overwhelmed by claustrophobic depression,
gratitude.

Gratitude, a sacred noun,
positive attitude, a secular verb phase.

Depression and gratitude,
depressed gratitude,
mystical oxymoron.
Impossibly essential
potential.

Repression and victory.
Hope in and through blind and deaf,
senseless faith in power of positions
over doubling down negative
to co-arise resonant resolutions.

Suppression yet naked clarity,
dualdark yet light-squared
and cubed
and fractal holonic,
holy,
sacred self enslavement,
mortality
despair.

Desecrated Earth
and inhumane capitalized bodies,
giving thanks
in dawn’s promised dusk.

Within,
above,
below all,
giving thanks receiving thanks,
sacred acclimating gratitude,
humbling attitude.

Great commissions,
emissions,
omissions;
elevating attitudes
descending through our past.
Elevators rise to fall to rise
within great and small commissions.

Paradise fulfills embryonic love
as love grows roots in positive faith
as faith emerges out of naked hope
as hope fertilizes absence of mistrust’s despair.

Desperation’s absence
begins with absence of pathological denial,
returning Earth’s embryonic trust
with mistrust,
light squared fertility
returning dualistic darkness.

Energy is capital,
our regenerative god
and our degenerating idolatry.

Our subsidies
grow our investments in future health
and our divestments out of past pathologies.

Information is the capital derivative of energy,
as exformation departs from embryonic negentropy.

Great commissions of gratifying robust systems
grow from small omissions of dissonant mistrust.

In all trusted and mistrusted things, give thanks.

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EarthDay by Day

Day by day
within each passing shadow,
surging strength
to grow from fear through time.

Night by night
without full hope of living,
doubt pervades
my troubling mind’s worst fears.

Night by day
and day by night
within each dwelling passion,
faith I find
to live despite dark nights.

Day by night
and night by day
we dream co-dwelling passions,
loves as lives
to die apart in light,
to fly as part of bright.

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