Tag Archives: political

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The Gardener and the GunShop Owner

Degenerative issues for the gunshop owner
are also regenerative opportunities from the gardener.

Lack of civil civics lessons slacked
for small persons made of evil
is also opportunity to learn love’s live,
is evil respelled backward.

Please stand as you are able
to sing along in your best country western anthemed voice
for more love songs and less unchallenged microphones
feeding fears and angers that some people,
quite country simply,
just perversely choose to become psychopaths
and violently mentally ill,
and thereby wicked evil.

I heard him on the radio
the gun shop owner said
You can’t undo this evil.
Some folks will always think
you and yours would be better off dead.

I heard the gardener
when she said
It must be different where you’re from.
We are taught to feed to deeply live
and stop watering the weeds.

If your kid were at a concert
which would you rather hear?
The gun shop owner’s hopeless evil
so feed us more ballistics faster
or the gardener’s hope to live
through composting root systems
to dig in richer,
warmer schools and families,
nations and estates,
corporations and incarnations
with better healthing vital ballast?

What might we do yet together
if those first two years of school
our teachers taught Make Love Not War
just like the Golden Rule?

I wonder if we’d still require
two years defacing
and refacing
and effacing anger management
through better ballistic bureau owners
recruiting basic training for military violence industrialization
if we simply fed more let love live
to younger generations
so less water for those growling evil weeds.

You can’t talk with a mike to a man
with a shotgun business in both hands
but you can sing and dance
with a WinWin boy
before he’s been watered to want
to fire a gun,
just for self-bruising kicks.

Now our minds might be as one
love for sacred Mother Earth
with our Golden Ruling Sun’s
who don’t make no evil bankrupt children.

Somebody,
please,
turn the gunshop owners microphone off.
Turn off the electricity,
and their/our flooding waters
of overwhelming volume
for mutually accepted hate
and fear
without so much as calculating anger,
not so better managed
with ballistics
should you learn this golden gymnast rule ballastics
of Earth’s yummy rich fed gardeners.

What might we do yet together
if those first two years of school
our teachers taught Make Love Not War
just like MultiCulturing Golden Rules?

Which one is pathological propoganda
and which is nutritional health enculturation?

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Norwick’s Head Poobah

I was interviewing the Head Poobah
of our Norwick Public Utility CoOperative
and asked him
Where did the 22 percent goal come from
for acquiring renewable energy?
As compared to 78 percent from nonrenewable
and guaranteed increasingly costly electricity sources
like burned-out oil and gas and coal,
with their concomitant stinky smokestacks.

“As I recall
when we needed a number
for our report on future numbers,
that was a number
we had nearly achieved
so we found this number
a realistic one to report now
about our future goal,
now basically attained.”

Is that how you derive all your health and safety goals
for our future health and safety?

“Without having thought about it,
and retaining the right to change my Head Poobah mind,
I guess that would be about right
22 percent of the time.”

I was hoping for 100 percent,
or as close to it
as your mind might derive
through deeper and wider contemplation,
not to mention higher.

“As concerns my health and safety
and truth-telling goals,
although I cannot say 100 percent for sure,
I believe I am currently at about 78 percent
nonrenewable responses
about suboptimizing choices
for future health and safety.”

Do you recall
if anyone asked
what a 100 percent green energy goal
might look like in Norwick?

“No,
I’m sure I would remember
something so unimaginable.”

And why is a 100 percent ecological healthy and economic safety goal
so unimaginable to our Head Poobah?

“That would really require
cooperative ownership
of using only greener renewable energy
and incorporating that focal point
over all our
cooperative v BusinessAsUsual competitive
goal setting
and WinLose budgeting
and strategic planning
for achieving super-saturating
WinWin health and safety goals
for the entire Norwick CoOperative Utility.”

But,
isn’t that what one would cooperatively expect
if one were handsomely paid
to become Head Poobah
of something called
Norwick CoOperative Efficacy, Incorporated?

“No, no.
I am at least 78 percent certain you have that nonrenewably wrong,
we are the Norwick Public Utility Corporation.”

Oh, I see.
How silly of me,
confusing efficacy with utility
and public ownership with cooperative
ummmm…
ownership.

“Not a problem.
When you’ve been in the public and personal sector businesses as long as I have,
you don’t realistically expect to hit 100 percent
on health and safety and truth-remembering.”

That’s extremely disconcerting.

“Good news for you.
Disaster sells more papers.”

Yes,
but paper still comes from trees
cooperating with clean air and water
and just-right solar rays
to avoid future climates of public,
and personal,
nonutilitarian pathologies
at least 78 percent of local Head Poobah times
and spaces
and incorporating places.

OK,
I didn’t actually say that last part out loud,
but I was most self-righteously thinking it.

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7 Reasons to Not Talk Gun Control

Today we have a list of seven best reasons
not to even think about talking gun control
after an automatic rifle out of control
critical event,
one for each day of the week.

Monday:
The automated guns might hear us,
and continue automatically firing themselves
into more innocent bystanders
despite the lack of any specific humane intent.

Tuesday:
We will not need to hear the full boring list
of restraining illustrations and constraining anecdotes
about how local solutions
continue failing to deliver needed global non-violence resolutions.

Wednesday’s Child:
We will not have to consider the remote possibility
that global non-violence,
rather than automated ballistic “shoot first” associations
and public and private sector incorporations,
is what international political leaders might reasonably also list
as appropriately adopting sane international WinWin relationships.

Thursday’s Continuing MalAdaptive Child:
The remaining non-gun owners
might not hear the insanity of supporting gun silencers
as a conspiracy to make even more money
selling further violence
than trying to more humbly sell peace.

Fried Out Day:
The remaining gun owners,
within this public sector silence,
buy more time to refuel,
resupply,
propogate,
become fertile and multiply automated death
and dismemberment technologies,
in a world that is already suffering from overpopulation anyhow,
despite all those evil abortions,
and growing hurricanes and floods and tsunamis
and polar melts
and air pollution
and water pollution, etc.
Maybe if enough of us start aiming at each other,
we can shoot our way out of this overpopulation problem.
God knows,
we have been trying long enough
through Ballistic Business As Usual.

Saturday’s Sabbath:
Business As Usual is perhaps the best reason not to even talk about military industrializing civilian controls
after an isolated automatic rifle out of civic and civil control
uncritically
unanalyzed event.

Full Sunday:
There is less money to be made from knives,
and poisons,
and fake piety of
God bless you
in face of historic over-investment in violent rifles
to take out your kid;
the one God blessed you with
until death came
from living in a nation-state
where the simplicity of one gun-one bullet,
in case of emergencies,
could never be enough
for Second Amendment Advocates
of their First Amendment Rights
to speak and act violence or non-violence,
without responsibility or accountability
for which is which.

 

 

 

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PreTrumpian Pronouncements

I saw there was a mow-down in Las Vegas
of country western loves.
And also heard our President
was about to share his view.
But before he had his chance
to enlighten one and all,
I figured his best solution
was to hope before the next time
we’ll all do our patriotic duty,
go out and buy the best automatic multi-repeating rifle
with scope that we can afford to buy,
so everyone can keep a well-scoped eye
on all the other country western wise
before we blast each other’s patriotic duty
to stand and salute both our flags of equally good history,
leave no child with any color standing,
left unpatriotically behind.

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Slice and Dicey EcoFeminists

We could invite many ways
to slice and dice the prism
EcoFeminist.

I first ran into this label
when spoken by a sexual advocate
in the early 70s
at the University of Michigan,
from the mouth of a transgendering ecofeminist
who felt more matriotic about land and people and plants
than patriotic about a nation and state
whose laws,
and the paternalistic parents of those laws,
declare s/he had no right to exist,
certainly not propogate.
No right to love
whom s/he loved
in her proud
and loyal
and honorable
and grateful ecofeminist way.

I can more dimly hear ecofeminist
as an ecologist
who happens to also be a feminist,
but this lacks sufficient resonance and resolution for me.

I can hear ecofeminist
as feminist
who also happens to know about her/his natural environment
and yet this planet inspires feelings of fertile interdependence
as healthy
and would better expire laws of nature
devoid of wealthy co-relationship,
wherein human nature
stands godlike patriarchal and supremely above
our agribusinesses of generic commodified nature
to declare humane wealth
measured only by this quarter’s productivity
intended to leave all fields and forests and oceans barren
before moving on
to our next hostile ecopolitical takeover.

To me,
fully articulating my ecofeminist heart and mind
cannot separate this scientist of Earth’s biosystems
from our fertile-loving nurturance of health,
our most abundant echoing and regenerating cross-trained selves.

EcoFeminists
fade and fail when personal health outcomes
are depoliticized from national and international lands and oceans,
as well as removed from local and bioregional wealth production,
without co-balancing healthy educational consumption.

Feminist ecologists
abundantly cooperatize, optimize,
when personal health ownership reflects our land and water,
fire and wind wealth of ecosystemic
economic
co-investing balance.

EcoFeminists
are radical cooperativists,
singers and dancers and self-entertainers,
planters as harvesters,
birthers before butcherers,
listeners before performers,
speakers
doers
seekers
learners and educators,
parents and mentors,
because this is who we were all born to become
to-gathering ecofeminists.

Our schools,
from preK through post-doctorate,
technical conservation through liberal arts and entertainment,
real estate through real organic wealth,
would each and all do a better job together
of nurturing and growing
and provisioning and providing ecofeminist leaders
if educational curricula
were more permaculturally designed
with ecofeminist divas in the rooms
and in the fields,
and on the seas and rivers,
and not so over infested with unnatural lawyers
who believe our vocations
are to settle for Win some secular health
by losing some sacred wealth,
to teach us why we must not healthy do
as we would most wealthily,
holistically,
cooperatively,
sacredly prefer.

I want to think and feel as a grateful ecofeminist of grace
at school
and church
and mosque
and voting booth
for whom health and wealth
smell and feel and talk together
like Yin reweaving Yang
in co-ecofeminist solidarity,
deep learning regenerations
of (0)Sum
WinWin producing YangSpace
as also consuming Yin PrismedTime.
——————————————
Neither ecofeminist educators
nor prisms
could wisely argue
about which lens is most correctly primal
or (0)-prime best.

Healthiest is cooperatively wealthiest
with us all holonic,
Yang sending as Yin receiving
simultaneously WinWin.

Which is the Greatest God of All?
disputes do not emerge from prisms,
rather prisons and schools
and bad faith communities
and fake news communications
of retributive WinLose monopolies
devolving toward LoseLose anti-systemic theories
and nihilistic hypotheses
filling in
until our return to restorative mercies and joys
conjoining EcoFeminist Gaian Principles and Procedures
toward more polyculturing prismatic outcomes
of deep
and rich
and wide nutrition,
health optimizing wealth,
planting seeds of wisdom as we have always eco-harvested.

 

 

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Don’t Tell Me Why We’re Waiting

My favorite radio show
is Wait…Wait, Don’t Tell Me!
on NPR near you.

But, it has bothered me,
over the years,
a snagging voice in sign-off background,
threatening the host will see me again next week,
as if that was the answer we had awaited,
and so hoped he would not tell us.

Why does he lie to me?
Deliberately or otherwise?
Did he not notice his is a radio show?
Isn’t the point that I don’t have to go anyplace
to be seen?
Nor need I look in his direction
to enjoy his show and tell.

This untruth could be like Ray Charles
telling his audience he will see them next time.
Either an embarrassing mistake
or a revolutionary news story
so dryly understated
it went almost without saying to his death.

Although at least he might truthfully say:
I will smell you with your money again next week,
or even hear you.
Although with Ray
I think my hearing point
would be the other way around.

Why not the truth?
We’ll be back again next week,
same time,
same station.

A little traditional.
Perhaps a twitch of self-promotion.
But, at least not an outright threatening misconception.

Which got me thinking
about how I kept hearing Trump’s campaign promises
as both personal and environmental threats
for way bad climates to continue
on all of these tired stations,

And whether he now has any idea
that each time he reminds us
of what a great job he and his beloved are doing
and please tune in again next week,
we continue hearing that as menacing reassurance
that he is insanely unattached,
detached in absence from,
unavailable for processing
how scary we find his anti-healthy outcome standards
for public sector administrative leadership performance,
usually more WinWin,
and considerably less about covering one’s own
Win some-Lose some
private bought and sectored butt.

I’m not so sure he’s doing such a good job
compared to,
well,
most any processor of information
of any multiculturing species
including those who claim they saw and actually listened to me
again last week
about how his comedic success both promises
and reassures us
of further tragic despair
as I think and feel what’s already not left of healthy wealth
for my own special needs and opportunities kids
trying to live in healthing climates,
and not quite so much pathologizing,
who may not reassure anyone
about what a great job they are doing
taking care of even themselves,
but that is honest;
this family is about and for transparent integrity.
At least we know when we’re sucked up
to by psycho-phantic
‘non-political’
moneychasing machines,
more mindful of badnews robotics
than goodnews gospel teachers.

We will also not be fooled into believing
we can be seen and heard by a public sector self-promoter
just because he threatens to come back again next week
to do this same monoculturing elitist thing again
that we know has only one-badway happened truthfully,
same time,
same sad and not quite true
yet still
kinda funny
spacetime NPR station

Playing
Wait Wait,
Don’t Tell Me
public sectors can’t really quite see private ears,
can you?
despite all our weeks
of mindfully listening
to our tragic comedy
threats as promises
together?

 

 

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Wind Whispering CoMessiahs

Mentors of the BeeTrees

From NorthWinds
come darkening winter
as newborn discontent
waiting to spring forth.

From SouthWinds
come summer’s diastasis
climax of full-born wisdom
of contentment for and from all four directions
spread across sleeping hearts
of each nighttime regeneration.

From normalizing WestWind toward East colonializing
patriarchal harvest
comes abundant fall in grace
of grace
from grace fulfilled in heartier summer,
for grace processing
through deep long winter winds
of (0)-souls abundantly newborning.

From EastWind springs
nondually co-arise
good news as Easter strawberries
full and blood-red regenesis
well ahead of co-redeeming dreams
for other berries to come after white lillies lead
around green connifers
promising full summer’s heat
by learned lighttime
on this first day
of all gratitude
yet to reborn come
leaders of berries
and birds
and baby bodhisattvas
of all four winds,
each with their season,
reasons
rational Tao gratitudes
and irrational Confusion platitudes
of sacred yet secular ecology.

From NorthWinds
winter water darkens
within discontent
newborn,
dreams dawning
future seasons of gratitude
with summer’s fullblown positive attitude.
———————————————–
As I awake this morning
I remember a song I taught my more oppositionally disposed daughter:

I love you
and you might love me
even if I couldn’t
re-align my four B’s,
brain,
and branches,
and belly,
and butt
these four aligned
good government.

If you do
then I will too.

It was part of a dream
as I awoke this morning
I remembered EarthTribe is no longer the same population
living within that song
as when I went to bed
last night.

A few of us have died.
A few have been new born.

And so it goes each morning
since I was that new born
overwhelmed by all the collective Four-B wisdom
of older dreams
awakening each morning
to discover a few more have joined us,
coming along behind,
and a few more ahead
are now beyond any further potential
for re-alignment leadership
or even long-lived Fractal-B hums of silent listening.

And so I will go that last night
now leading those who listen
for a swelling population of EarthTribe Crystal-B Voices
greeting each new born pioneer
who joins us for this Earth training turning journey,

Vocation for wiser co-aligning Elders
as just normal-aptic naptime for others
just now begun
for whom we join our minds as one
in and with and for and of
peace-filling co-gratitude.

I wonder if our purist unity as EarthTribe
is only RightBrain known and felt in dreams
where reptiles and mammals and amphibeans
like beans and corn and squash
all process more alike than separate,
more interdependently than empty,
without distinctions arising sexism,
without separations co-arising racism,
without asseverational appositions causing self-righteous violence
unless we know these as unruly nightmares
begging to grow more restorative mercy
and thereby less necessity for retributive harsh justice,
patriarchal vengeance is ours!
as EarthTribe slowly shape-shifts repopulation
between each daily-nightly evolving frame
roundly rolling along spacetime’s polypathic avenues
becoming not exactly who we were yesterday,
as there is not sufficient time to quite grasp it all so much
in one timeless time,
just as, in RealTime,
unlike Common DreamTime,
we cannot quite get back
to (0)Sum original habitat
of spacetime’s full-blown diastatic revolution,
still home, disappointed yet again.

But,
maybe tomorrow night
this resonant resolution
may yet come to last
for tomorrow’s recast EarthTribe,
polyprotagonists
yet perpetually interdependent underdogs,
(read: bitches, eco-witches, Sacred EarthMothers, and MotherTrees,
no anonymous underdog identities undemocratically meant to be
unpolitically correctly excluded)
depending on your preferred bulldog or the b-word identity
of protagonizing ecojustice dreams
where Paradise Lost
looks more same than different
throughout today’s reborn
post-creolizing,
millennializing,
degenerating still,
then through this timeless multi-speciating dream,
more double-binding than simplistic (0)Sum LoseLose
degeneration with regeneration
for no one wakes up tomorrow
to re-create gratitude for dawn’s newborn delight
in FourB eco-alignments
more interdependently flying together
than degeneratively coming apart.
———————————————————–
Up from NorthWinds
comes darkening winter water
as newborn discontent
waiting to spring forth.

 

 

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Social Climbing Jacob’s Ladder

I wrestle with against vulnerable boundaries
to invasive intimacy,
left unlanguaged yet right felt dismay
could not sustainably remain
without being said outloudlyish
in some bicameral bilateral bipolar balancing brainiac
polypathically left merely cooperationalizing,
creolizing Sacred Elders feeling self-righteous
matriarchal nutritionisms,
spiritual and diminished secular scientissues
falling failing OtherWise,
hypothetical proofs of co-incidence.

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Not not coincidentally here.

I wish.
Go notnot away.

Where dissonance grows troubling
such dismay’s source is left label searched for
within economic causes
secular with sacred ecological effects
to become biologically expected
in and through bilateral regenerational returns,
depending on the faith systemic word choices preferred
by All EarthLives Matter
sacred ecosystemic recoverers,
co-listening
deep mutual learners
comfortable in tranquil ponds
of lucid equal harmonies
ringing double-boundaries
singing
winging
flinging not here not now
invisible hypotheses
of Zero-Core bicameral bilaterality.

Rich loving mentors,
teachers,
but please,
not another preacher
of cognitive patriotism
against affective ecofeminist intuitive self-defense
began against
lunar-scheduled matriotism,
offense against solar Yanger
wanger
bangers,
Pi to pay
the multiculturing pipers,
ecofitters,
multiculturing quilters
and organic happy, sometimes a little high,
farmers
of antiquity,
herstoric myth tellers
and legend gossips
and polypathic paradigming architects
exforming evolutionary incarnations
as revolutionary reverse-notnot
evolutionary
yet as now appositionally bilateral
absence of cognitive-affective dissonant
boundaries of vulnerably echoing reiterative transparency,
both ego threat of rightwing dominant terrorism
and eco-opportunity,
left with right wing ego/eco-dominance
as positive psychology
and EarthTribe EcoJustice
complicated redisunprecovery
of often deep dense politics.

All about atomizing power
both/and wavey-linear flow.

Wherein we wrestle with,
but preferably not against,
vulnerable boundaries
about too invasive double-binding intimacy
left unlanguaged
yet right felt dismay
sung in
and through thin
diminished dissonance.

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So Let Me Tell You

So let me tell you,
if I’m looking between lives
with multicolors
and gentle genders
and green cards
in one graceful hand,

And Trump-heavy President fixation
away from restoring
Earth’s ecojustice for All
on the other RightWing denomination,

Then let me tell you
seeking Trumpish twitters
of self-congratulating trumphalism
as more patriotic
then loyal honored deep Yintegrity

On Gaian liberated knee
as if too matriotically humbled
to stand for Yangish
and self-righteous thee,
then let me tell you
I am so very quite sure
your poppa raised White elitist you
to spell anti-matriotism
with a positive patriotism Peee
only while standing up
as royal Thee.

And let me vice versa tell you,
if you find loyalty
and honor,
civility and mercy
and compassion taking on a matriotic knee,

Then your Momma,
well let me tell you,
she spelled patriotism ecologically right
with left,
bicameralishly.

Which, if you spell justice
with domestic peace of clear blue mind
you suspect dipolar
co-arising
matriots
of bipolar disarray
too wild left,
and let me tell you,
no way we’ll move love with Mother Earth diminished
down to a way out somewhat sleazy loose-lived girl
only good for lunch.

It just might become our hunch
hanging out with a more permaculturing bunch.

 

Note: For me this piece works best as jazz riffs rooted in the melody for

When I Fall In Love…

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Same Ol’ Song and Dance

As I look back across my more musical times
of rhythmic reflections,
ceremonies and commemorations
of each dawn and dusk eremitic liturgies,
if that is not an oxymoron
of sound and sight,
song and dance,
tragically sad, yet also bilaterally bound with happier chance
of liturgical comedies
reflected upon together.

And as we look out through all our co-diva taoist days
like pages of leaves we have co-written,
we grow one primordial Tipping Point,
that we are each both tragic
and most abundantly comedic
when held together
through mutually revolutionary
Bodhisattva Warrior eco/ego-identity.

And,
with our ends held together,
what matters most
to and for and of all of us,
is when we have fed tragic
and where we have bled comedic
into the transparently naked (0)Remainder WinWin Othernest
as soon as therapeutically possible.

When was the last time
you turned to whomever, always present,
sitting next to your Leftsaid,
with at least one exclamation point,

That was totally Yang-awesome!

It might have been at the end of a song
heard for the first time
in a particularly deep and rich,
and possibly a bit also high,
way.

Or maybe during a dance
that was totally radical,
perfect to each beat
each lyrical swell and ebb
filled with athletic grace
of freakishly limber space
and centered
like a linear 4D pivot
we each potentially arcingly are
as we become this music’s dancing story,
beautifully
exquisitely reincarnating
us down
into your stage of life’s most recent crippling bow,
with tragic-comedy final statement,
tragedy of each end
with comedy of wonder
for each protagonist opera
in which our only antagonist
was perfect meeting of lyrically rhythmicizing here
with timeless now’s completely committed integrity
of ego/eco-consciousness
reweaving

Personal tragedy of missed integrity closes
to further comedies of dissonant clumsiness,
stumbles of feet and hands and mind
and pens
about dancing through life and death ourselves
as totally awesome
tragic-comedic ecopolitical choreography
with public sector lyrics
for what started out as a deeply personal
intimate
vulnerable liturgicalizing matriarchal-wombed life.

Or maybe Wow!
was when you were leaving church,
and mosque
and temple
and synagogue
and generic everyday BusinessAsUsual faith family,
smiling about
how to better dance
our mutual resonant opportunities,
to feed the juice
and starve the monoculturing weeds.

Wow! Totally awesome
love,
grace,
synergy,
creolization
Thanks for singing and dancing
and taking us to church
with you,
where we each belong
multiculturally YangHere with YinNow
bilateral balancing
and limber spiraling
together.

I awaken
to both the parent of special ecopolitical needs
and ecological opportunities,
but also the part-time Taoist hermit diva,
totally co-investing in WinWin liturgical planning,
each multiculturing day
within dawnspace harmonic singing Yang
through Yin dualdark
co-arising lyrics
with Bodhisattva EcoFeminist Warriors,
First Native International Cooperative Networks
each ego-anonymous
collegially remembering co-protagonists
of Earth’s tragic-comedic multiculturing sad despair
with silent democratic
solidarity
liturgically ecological matriotic
YangSong with WinWin dance,
here and also now
(0)Soul rhythms
of long slow stealthy blues as also green
balancing creolic outgoing choreography.

Antagonizing local people about their malingering protagonist rights,
their song as dance resources,
and their musically harmonic knowledge,
does not patriotically rest unchallenged.

Forest struggles
continue resisting buying and selling and renting of protagonist
song and dance forests,
including stories internal to India,
yet not in Asia alone.

Forest resacralizations resist secularizing diminishment
of forests for tragic exploitation
by patriarchalYang commodifying not (0)-interest profits,
and dipolar co-gravitating transubstantiation
from liturgically abundant ecological resources
for tragic song and comedic dance
back into a bad faith commodifying community.

Villagers sang and danced our tragic removal
demotion of rich ecoforests to mere positive productions
from notnot negatively dwindling reserves
asserting ego/eco-justice rights
to satisfy our basic
continuing together tragic-comedic needs.

Feeding critical tragedy for underdog lyrics
while bleeding sad danced systematic allegiances
against monocultural demands for fake-patriotistic choreographed events,
non-violent protests
were crushed by One Nation Don’t Mean First Nation,
cause I wasn’t born yesterday
or the day before that,
or before doing a really great job
of making more money
for some really good people
who just got caught up in the right place
in my best time
Trump,
among the USA evangelical faithful;
as crushed by British colonialism,
among Central Asian Bodhisattva ReForesters
and Eastern American First Nation PreForesters.

In the Himalayan mountain bioregion
the Chipko women’s movement
began liturgically embracing living MotherTrees
as their protectors,
their own source
of food
and fuel
and fiber
and fertile habitat.

The Onandaga First Nation School
reimagined how children might non-violently speak and move
their dawn hugged liturgies to remember alleged thanksgivings
for MotherTrees,
their hugs
hugging ours in music and danced liturgies
of Earth-allegiance gratitude,
basic positive cooperative
matriarchal song and dance
with Tipping Points
of taoist divas
dipolar co-arising
(0)-soul long slower bluesy terms
of jazz rhythmic
creolizing
song as dancing attitude.

As I look back across more musical times
of rhythmic reflection,
allegiance ceremonies and gratitude commemorations
of each dawn and dusk danced liturgy,
I look forward too.

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