Powers Over Me

I once read,
If I am a parishioner,
(or a student
or a child
or some other non-elite identity)
Then someone has power over me.

It would have been more helpful
if this “someone”
had been named,
finger-pointed outed.

I am left wondering,
Who could this Someone be?

And, is this non-indigenous power
used to empower and disempower me?
And/Or, disempower and empower We?
And possibly some of both,
and all fractal four, above?
Or, with the And/Or,
is this actually another variation
on a perfect octave circling string?

This “someone”
could not mean clergy,
usually civil,
more than uncivil;

Called to suffering of servant facilitators,
mediators of democratically inclusive theological reflection
on real world experience,
the scripture of ecological dynasties,

Natural relationships
learned as also,
at our best and most resilient,
theologically resonant health
and safe-valued wealth
of co-passions,
equivalent to double-negatives,

and histories
and herstories
of double-binding bilateral ZeroZone Souls.

Two intersectional stories
for all relationships,
secular Yang
with sacred non-elite bilateral yin-squared power
climates inside/outside,

Fractals of positive empowerment
and negative disempowerment

Within ecosystems ego-sufficient
and concomitantly co-arising
co-incidental transubstantiation

When Ego equals LeftYang hemispheric framing lenses
and Eco equals RightYin political GreenCommons network
of interdependence,
sufficient left/right co-affirmation

Then, when reading,
If I am a parishioner,
(or a student
or a child
or some other non-elite identity)
Then someone
slightly less LeftBrain dominant
and more RightBrain affirming
empowers warmly with me.


Weekday Alarm

I am anxious
as my 5:30 beeping alarm
grows defiantly louder,
reminding me of surreal difference
between asleep, longing for better days awake,
now awake,
longing for more sleep
struggling toward alarming predawn buttons
to release from this first crisis
for depressing life’s day-rousing alarms.

I wish for a more therapeutic,
more leisurely,
more retiring way to awake,
if I truly must.

my son who cannot speak
or walk,
but hears just fine,
sleeps on.
Eyes closed.
Dimple mischievously appearing in full moon’s light.

What could be his difference
between light unconsciousness of competing spoken day
and dark consciousness of cooperating listening night?

And is this so very different
from vast humane majorities of nations,
who speak too much by day to listen
and listen too briefly at night
to speak of dreams we might share
arising once again together
toward depressing buttons of despair
for this another alarming Earth Day.

This Earth day
with too many speaking half asleep
to future invitations;
Earth nights
listening back to this internal nap half awakened
by past convocations
of memory as light
forgetfulness through therapeutic dark night.

My muted son,
though hardly silent,
as he can be a loud red-charging bull
yet in a peaceful playful warrior way
to those who believe we know
his inside sleep
showing through his outside wake
to share Earth’s daytime communion.

He and I
are equally invisible
undiscriminated by night
and, I suppose,
both using light
to brighten differences
between inside me
and outside not yet,
not still
double-bound somehow
like outside views
impossible without inside longings
to remember our shared inside-outside intentions.

Wishes and fears,
hopes and angers,
loves and hates unraveling by predative day
arisen from our warm dry beds
of praying affluence.

Longings and belongings,
seductions and reductions,
inductions and deductions,
terrible investments and terrific divestments
calculated reweavings by dualdark night
within our Earthly rest
from fully individuating difference.

The alarm still echoes
through my half awake ears
as I stumble before dawn’s light
toward remembering how to become an enabling parent
taught by disabling children of love.
Recalled to how we might awake to love each other more
before this night’s rest reweaving Paradise.

I am anxious
as I depress my alarming button,
a toggle switch icon
transitioning anxieties of sleep
through opportunities of life together

My son turns over
toward his wall of darkening comfort
as he prepares to dream
our Therapeutic Warrior songs
and dances
once again.
His prayers rise dimpled within me.


Threatened Organic Economies

“No federal agency should ever…declare war on any sector of our economy”

says EPA chief Scott Pruitt.

I wonder how uncomfortable Secretaries and Parents of Health and Human Services could be

with any Protection Agency

declaring war on all sectors of our human health ecology.


Officers of the Peace

TO: Police Officer Training Schools

FROM: Parents EcoPolitical Cooperative for Healthy Climates

Thank you for listening to our mutual concern about escalating violence between our multicultural children
and your multigenerational health and safety vocation.

We have a few communication suggestions
that our kids have taught us over the years
about more civil responses
and authoritatively kind welcoming conjectures
and shared concerns about not-so-civilly uncooperative behaviors.

We would like to share our orthopraxis of active peacemaking
through less violent communications.

It is so important to begin and end each day and relationship
mentoring please and thank you.
Also remember to reward You’re Welcome
as always, in our shared civil lives.

We find that when we have chased a speeding stoned-out son or daughter down,
it helps to begin with
“Thank you so much for stopping.”
With a genuine smile, if at all possible.

This generally provokes shock and awe about our unusual restraint.
Within this pocket of silence
we recommend planting a kind, but quick, follow-up
“Would you please be kind enough to show me your license
to drive your mindbody vehicle in this way
at this speed
in this ecopolitical environment
of health risks and opportunities?”

Usually, our kids are only too happy to share their documentation,
such as it has become, to date.
When this is the case,
please do not forget to respond with gratitude,
“Thank you so much for your cooperation.”

If our young offenders fail to respond with
“You’re welcome”
Please do remind them that their mothers might have taught them
with more gratitude for civil public lives and roles
of responsible authority.

To remember “You’re welcome” is everything
From economics of beginning faith
to politics of ending with multicultural grace.

Sometimes translated as
but never Whatever…!
You’re Welcome is our mantra of cooperative ecopolitical civic lives.

You’re welcome
because we know you’re doing the best you can,
bless your competitive little egocentric heart.

You’re welcome
because we’re all on this road together,
racing through lives
screaming for a more civil pace,
we are diversely enculturing mentors of welcome,

If not,
then try to recall, as we do, when Police Officers
might have been known as Officers of Peace.


Political Artists

Brilliant writers
have recommended to younger students,
to only write if they cannot live without doing so.

Elder successful icons of artistic expression,
have similarly advised apprentices,
do not do as I have done
unless you could do naught else.

But what about parenting?
speaking of artistically nutritional communication,
visually and sensually rich therapies
for growing eyes and minds
ears and tastes and bodies.

Does successful and beautiful communication
in the public eye
place leadership demands on empathic consciousness,
benign commitment to prophetic integrity,
any less rigorous than organizing private daily 24/7 healthy incarnation liturgies?
co-mentoring creation and recreation performance rituals,
expressions of grace,
both empathically healthy and innocently, yet climatically, pathological..

Wondrously skillful parenting
requires more mindful consciousness commitment,
cooperative economic skills,
than does an artist’s Great Literature wheelhouse.

Parents cringe too often reminded,
not by our truth as beauty artists,
but by the occasional eruptive child
becoming who they are and would not be
because of your prior commitment to self-regeneration,
not theirs,
preferably within a somewhat healthy functional relationship.
Being a parent is a vocation,
but being a child could be play as vocation-filled learning.

If you do not believe your children would become good parents yet,
then these are those moments and places
where you were born to master eco-artistic regenerating leadership,
perhaps even a letter or a poem,
a story,
animate your diagrams,
resort to song and dance,
born to choose family-appropriate humor
over dramatic terrorist and operatic plots.

Avoid monopolistic singing in minor keys,
and don’t race your synergetic waltz
into a tornado of enslaving ego- and anthro-centric supremacy,
as this would demonstrate an embarrassing lack of commitment
to their truth as beauty futures,
the artistic leadership of co-mentoring
empathic political and economic Master Parent Certification,
unfortunately, perhaps, rather a lifetime process.

Here again,
we uncover a problem with our arts in education model.
Skilled ecotherapeutic educators and leaders,
such as WinWin strategically creative parents,
are those who most deserve,
and want to become,
Doctors of Loving Wisdom—PhiloSophia,
Medicine Women and Men,
shamanic co-mentors of Earth’s nutritional and pathological powers
through nutritional familial communication.