There is only integrity
of time’s potential,
regenerative
more life enlightening
than degenerative,
death darkening,
disintegration
entropic,
absence of integrity.
There is only health
of Earth’s potential,
regenerative wealth
more empowering
than impoverishing, punishing
diseased,
uneased,
absence of ease,
nonviolent spirited peace
restoring spiraling natured justice.
Shameless,
we admit
living Earth chauvinism.
Our home
and favorite planet,
better, not necessarily bigger,
in our collective opinion,
than all other revolving planets,
stars,
suns,
satellites,
moons
orbiting through four dimensioned images
flowing maps
expanding frames
dynamic paradigms
More nurturing to us
than all stale constellations combined,
unchanging orthodoxy,
staid stillness
of an inflexible compass pointing out
prophecies of light versus inside dark,
warm life against cold dead unturnatives.
Our love of life on Earth,
like revolving regenerations ourselves,
begins with noticing Her colors
stellar blue and primordial green
with flickering highlights of flaming red,
bold yellow,
burnt orange,
blustering purple and violet,
bashful pink horizons in transition,
All harmonic signs elevating life
from dead stardust
and flowing baptismal water.
Humane Earth worship
includes, on better resonant days,
all communing EarthTribes
living within multiculturing song
and liturgical dance
of wealthing health,
celebrating well-being,
resilient being well
Together
regathering celebration of life
in all Earth’s majestic sacred forms
and revolving patterns,
rhythms of dark
then light,
outside
then inside,
before
then after,
being
been
becoming
Shameless,
guilt free,
born again,
eternal living Earth
con-celebrants.
I wonder what it means
we are a multicultural species
still capable of waging war,
employing ballistic terrorists,
investing in capitalism’s ruthless game
of surgical monopoly
to become patriarchs of bloodied mountains,
This feels related,
perhaps co-arising,
with inability to distinguish
an ecology of natural grace
from an efficient economy of spiritual just rewards,
Ego’s self-righteous returns
for prudent win/lose strategic investment
in owning Earth,
pieces of the property pie,
and renting human secularized resources
by the mundane weekday hour,
or contractual time-clock year
Leaving behind jubilee years
hopes and tears
and sabbaths
for those naturally deprived
and spiritually poor;
meat to feed future real-world war machines.
Victories and defeats in war,
terror,
shouting-matches,
strategic aggression against maligned characters,
colonizing predation,
political and religious monopolization
of win/lose investments
in overpowering persuasion–
These can all be earned,
but not graced.
Love,
life,
health,
natural/spiritual hybrid wealth,
awe,
compassion,
gratitude,
kindness,
mercy,
cooperativity,
synergy,
regenerativity,
integrity,
restoration,
resonance,
healing,
co-redemption,
communion–
These are signs and wonders,
powers and co-arising principalities
of wondrous grace,
and cannot be earned
or reductively unlearned.
What could be evolving purpose
in outrageously degenerative wars,
deliberate intent to terrorize
and counter-terrorize,
hate,
oscillating cycles of anger and fear,
evil humors
and cynical financial investments
against each sacred Other,
against Earth’s habitual health?
What could be revolving meaning
in ecosystemic wealth
of co-passionate powers,
religions of polycultural kindness,
multicultures of cooperative integrity,
Earth’s sacred economies
of permaculturing grace?
Words as offensive weapons
dwell on ugliness of bad-humored life.
Words as effective tools
dwell on beauty and truth
of good-humored health,
empowerment,
love.
Yet, swords become plowshares.
Plowshares are used as unwieldy swords.
Regenerative intent becomes degenerative chaos.
Degenerative discontent becomes regenerate
tipping point
within silent complexity.
Can words become weapons
for active peace?
And still tools
feeling quietly unresolved internal wars?
Between curious ancient communioned minds
and courageous ego bodies,
Between original health-tooled womb
memories
And today’s wealth-weaponed tidal means,
unsustained strength
yet resiliently flowing ways,
transparent brother dissonance
voicing sister confluence
through empowering vulnerability;
revolutionary stillness
actively listening
between quiet health-wombed rememories.
Wisely employed wellness tools
for feminist well-being weapons;
cooperatively-managed words
for hearing embeautied Truths,
re-seeing Ways,
rekindling communicating Lives;
revolutionary politics,
awesome economics,
wondrous revitalization,
compassionate communion.
He was too old
to speak of active hope
for ancient creamy dreams
not yet boldly told
Inviting curious homeless nomads
to imagine what we could become
if we were not yet brazenly born
into this time of tragic burning,
flooding,
predicting hunger,
thirst
and coastal drowning nakedness.
Into this epic brown despair
AzaRiah was innocently born
within fading red shadows
of a crumbling
patriarchal
white cathedral.
She never knew an old Golden Era
of endless capital expansion
and monopolistic worship
defying GoldenRules
applied to those like her,
the least and blackest last
of Earth’s Golden SpaceTime Ratio.
AzaRiah’s stormy education
had no LeftBrain Ego v NotEco luxury
to ponder why 2D full moons
are also 4D revolving half-lit norms,
Why spatial nomials
predict temporal bilateral binomials,
Why positive polypaths
predict not not negative
polyphonic ultra-nonviolence,
Why binary Zero
fulfilling One bipolar Zone
predicts double-binary 0/1
wave-linear dipolar co-arising
win/win DNA resplendent Tone,
Why fractal-structured regenerativity
nativity predicts octave spiraling scales
of resonant
resilient non-degenerativity.
She was much too busy
singing with hurricane winds,
listening for flaming conflagrations
of reactionary hate,
inviting still small ecofeminist circles
to dance again with GrandMother Moon
in compassion’s silent storms,
self and other recreating
perpetual healthcare perception
reception
Belonging in grateful silence
where her grandfathers
spoke with terrified tears
of Earth’s great loud longing.
I wonder why
this perennial topic of death
does not interest me
Even my own
evokes cold detachment
rather than invoking warm
heated attachment to denial
anger
disappointment
body betrayal.
Death cast in dull shadow
by my fascination with my own mortal
double-boundaried life
Which came from lives
not mine
and returns,
fades
disperses? perhaps,
explodes?
implodes?
re-unmembers
this individuated Ego
Born and reborn
from and of
Earth’s eco-centered
co-gravitation with Sun and Moon
light and dual-dark
double negatives equating positives,
regenerate Energy’s great democracy
ergodically dynamic
experiential math and con-science
rather than entropically stuck
stale death
From win/win beginnings,
Alpha waves
through death’s atomic
whole ego-embodied system
leftbrain autonomous identity
back through brain systemic holistic individuation
Easing back into this great Climate Sea
of re-emergent win/win becoming,
sacred right mystery and profane left history,
dual-dark enlightenment,
dark images and bright win/win memory
universal-unitarian
future already past interdependent
yang-yintegrity
Energy CoPresent
So much more curious
courageous
dynamic
regenerative
healthy
and interesting
than lack thereof.
Here is my faith
rooted in experience
yet to flower in things unseen,
relationships unfelt,
communications not yet heard,
tasted and spit out;
Savored
When I touch another life’s body
with kindness
I am thereby touched in return
by remediation,
immediate
intimate compassion,
CoPassion
Perhaps this is also innocently true
of touching minds
with kind and curious intent,
compassionate purpose,
But,
that is about my active hope,
already extending out
further family projections
from healing inside faith experience
that reemerges faith healing imaged future,
fluidly resonant
and co-presently resilient.
I find reassurance
in knowing I need not worry
no one will show up for my plans
And my job
and my joy
is to work and play with those someones
already here
in my life on this native Earth
at this sacred time.
I hear considerable comforting room
between not being able to accomplish all that is sufficient
for global health
and my ability to fully engage all that is necessary
for my local wealth.
When it’s final curtain time,
the size of the stage
is insignificant
compared to the quality of resonant sound
and resilient
brilliant lights.
I am responsible
and responsive
to every human built shelter
I have experienced as home,
mine to use,
to buy further improvements or sell,
to renovate or destroy.
I am responsible
and transparently responsive
to every lot of unimproved real estate,
every plot against healthy soil
and supporting water systems
and plants
and living creatures
who once called this place, home,
this space, habitat
to cooperatively use
to regenerate healthy wealth
and to degenerate diseased corruption.
I am accountable
when cooperative responsibilities
become transparent
from now
back toward Earth’s uncivilized
precivilized
uncompromised civility,
Wildness,
wilderness,
contemplative silence,
celebrating cacophony,
Polyphonic
polypathic
chaotically complex
beautifully true,
magnificently not mine.
We were sitting in our 60+ sharing circle
on a rainy Tuesday afternoon,
grey and raw and dreary,
listlessly speaking of the need to downsize,
to transition to a more manageable
more safe
more audible habitat.
And wanting to hang onto our independent mobility,
our cars, in most middle-class cases,
as long as possible.
We talked about proactive planning optimal independence,
about eventually living with our kids,
about potential confluence and conflicts of interest,
about shrinking invulnerable distances
between “someday,
as far from today,
as possible”
and the lightning quickness
of crushing physical and/or mental disability,
non-communication ability,
through accidents and aneurysms,
unfortunate and therefore unplanned critical events.
We did not talk about
how we felt
courageous and curious,
brave and patient,
afraid and angrily impatient
about how mortal life is what continues
only one day
one uncritical moment
at a time
while planning for other loving things
to unfold before
“no longer sacred SomeTime
as far away from secular today
as physically AND mentally,
naturally and spiritually, possible.
I didn’t notice,
until later,
we also didn’t look at cooperatively-held
unitarian plans
for win/win
health/wealth outcome optimization.
The hypothetical possibility
today
is “someday” for mutual pre-planning
cooperative downsizing
and shared mobility challenges,
resources,
opportunities,
risks,
vulnerabilities,
strengths,
letting go by first grabbing hold
of shared imaginations.
We didn’t talk
about how much we didn’t like
the empty chairs,
About how we miss, already,
Kate and Betsy
Jan and Sandy
and what they are planning
between shared now
and autonomous then.
Their unique and irreplaceable ways
of planning and not planning
pre-planning and re-planning
life each day
while continuing with other relationships
other communications
communions
communities.
I didn’t talk
about wanting to live with other singers
and maybe even dancers,
with others deeply committed to compassion
for both mortal humans
and immortal living Earth
Hopefully,
providing
inviting habitats of warm
cooperatively-owned and -managed
accompaniment,
creative improvisation,
jazz rhythms,
blues beats,
Especially on raw phrases,
dreary riffs,
rain-drenched
Tuesday jamming afternoons
of richly audible gloom.
gdill52 