Polarities

7

February 13, 2017, Prescott-

Snow besets the Northeast,

Rain fills the Southwest’s waterways,

Dust retreats, into mud.

 

The Alt-Right cries foul,

The Prog-Left yells foul words,

Civility retreats, into a cave.

 

Strength looks like force,

Humility is seen as weakness,

Sensibility retreats, into a whirlwind.

 

I  am listening quietly,

You wince at my expression,

Perception retreats, into personal mythology.

Weather-wise

5

January 18, 2017, Prescott-

Three storms are said to be headed our way.

The eternal optimist at the Arizona Republic calls for heavy rain,

all three days.

Locals in the know,

say there’ll be tons of snow.

Taking one day at a time,

all I’m sayin’

is, I am, as usual,

going to move nice and slow.

(This weekend was to be full, with a quick trip to Phoenix, on Friday night, to join a peace vigil.  Then, I was going to Camp Verde, on Saturday morning, to help install smoke detectors.  Sunday was to be devoted to Baha’i study.  Right now, my first event will depend on whether the roads are not too slick.  The second has been postponed.  The third is still a definite go, but that could change, if the storm lags.)

Hope all in the northwest, Midwest and southeast are getting back to normal.

Out of the Fog

5

January 5, 2017, Palm Desert-

I left the coast’s Jan gloom behind

A Blue Hole greeted five of us

descending from the San Jacinto,

the driver of the lead monster truck,

seemingly driving blind.

Somehow, doing fifty,

in a 25 miles an hour stretch,

made sense to him,

while we behind him, retched.

I would drive on,

and back into the rain,

but here in the desert,

sand and sun held domain.

The Road to 65, Mile 298: Equinox and Equity

4

September 21, 2015, Granite Dells-  I spent the evening of the Autumnal Equinox, observing the International Day of Peace, with a host of kindred spirits, enjoying the music of a local artist, Celia, and of our host, Johnny Light.

Heaven on Earth, where I find myself fairly frequently these days, is the home of John and his beloved, Happy Oasis, whose poetry is another draw to the blessed Dells- one of three “Rainforest”-type environments I have found in Arizona.  Johnny built the place himself, from the ground up, after their earlier home was leveled by a forest fire, little more than a year ago.

Celia was moved to thus dedicate a song to the victims of northern California’s ongoing wildfires, arguably the worst natural disaster we have had in this country, since Hurricane Katrina.  Over 23,000 people have now been displaced, with many living in tent cities.  Her song was simple:  “Rain”, chanted over and over, for about five minutes, with a Chilean rain stick furnishing the percussion.

John and Celia are each in superbly equitable relationships.  Many others in the assemblage, this evening, are in that situation, as well.  I enjoyed equity, in my marriage, and know that it is hard work.  It is also the most satisfying effort there is.  Yet, perhaps, Celia’s song, “Everyday Goddess”, puts the whole matter of gender and roles into perspective:  “It’s no big deal”.  If we just be, and not cast ourselves into untenable roles, then it seems that true equity will come about, as a matter of course.

I arrive at an exquisite realization, every time I set foot in Heaven on Earth.