THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN

Wizard of Oz: Discovering the man behind the curtains a con man and entertainer.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Only one thing is certain.

In your heart, you know it to be true.

The only person who matters is you.

That is the core of democracy,

a republic which is not a theocracy,

nor a monarchy, nor autocracy.

No man or woman will come to save your nation.

Now, pay attention

to school boards and zoning boards,

and definitely boards of election

where you will find your greatest protection.

Watch the mayors, governors and secretaries of state.

Do they make decisions with love or hate?

Vote out those who help keep his curtain closed

before it is too late.

The man behind the curtain is a wizard and a clown

who loves the limelight and will never fight

to keep the nation safe, nor guarantee your rights.

The man behind the curtain entertains himself

by entertaining fear in everyone else.

Those who serve him bow down in disgrace

and forfeit the security of any safe space

to exercise their freedom of ideas.

They can no longer listen to you.

They must do what he says they must do.

He looks for a way to escape.

Leave him to stew.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Only one thing is certain.

That is you.

VOTE!

Goodness and Mercy

Goodness and Mercy

follow me every day,.

Their footfalls softly fall

As I make my way.

As darkness drops ahead

they lift their torches

to light my way,

comforting through nights

that threaten

To never go away.

I hear their voices

in children at play.

I feel their touch in hugs

from friends keeping loneliness at bay.

I share their laughs and smiles

with strangers on my way.

I am carried in their arms

by those who lift my fears away.

I accrue my many debts

but it is they who pay.

They carry me toward my fate

when I would wearily delay.

And, when it seems useless,

they remind me to pray:

“Thank you, Goodness and Mercy

for following me all my days.“

GRIEF

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Everyone grieves in their own way, so they say.

But, steadfast Grief remains the same.

Lips once tilted in joy, Grief holds tight with the strain

of holding back anger and keeping screams at bay.

Grief tightens the brow and hardens the eye

to hold back the tears which threaten to slide

tearing apart all that we hold deep inside.

Cheeks held too tight crease 

and create runnels where tears may glide.

Grief clutches jaws held fearfully tight.

Once tears escape, will our held-back sobs fight

with a pulse so strong they can never be stopped?

Like a street thug, Grief pounds us into submission

and never takes time to ask our permission.

It pushes us down with pummels fierce and powerful.

Grief uses its bruising punches to keep us sorrowful.

We lie on hard pavements praying for the end to our suffering.

We feel we are losing our grip on reality.

We clutch at old truths, begging help to appear and lessen our sorrow.

Even Grief grows tired over time and lessens its blows.

Help comes when we unclench jaws and scream,  

and shout, and let our tears and fears outwardly flow.

Soften the eyes. Relax the brow. Let the tears flow. 

Tears wash away sorrow that new faith can be planted

in every tomorrow, with new ways to love

and new paths to follow.

Signs of grief always remain in new lines

that furrow about our lips, across the edge of our eyes,

and on necks which will, henceforth, our heads tip

slightly down, with greater humility, a bit.

Over time bruises heal, muscles grow stronger.

We learn we can handle the tough thugs who sit

on the sidelines, hidden in shadow.

We learn love again, embracing those who came to help.

We learn faith again, embracing those who prayed by our side.

We learn hope again, embracing those who helped us to our feet.

We stand again on loving, faith-filled, hopeful feet;

and, find a new path where joy and laughter can leads us.

We see our new selves in the eyes of those we pass.

We are stronger and last longer than Grief ever could.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY,IMMORTALITY

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This day is the last day

that I am able to say

I am seventy-four. 

My aching body feels the score.

I have pushed constantly my rock uphill.

Now, it pauses at the top, momentarily still.

I halt to feel the weight of years gone by,

the laughter and tears, the chuckles and sighs.

I am ready to cross the great divide

and slide downhill as my youth subsides.

It is downhill where I shall find 

my fastest speed of all my time.

The wind feels stronger,

helping my journey, afraid no longer

of what awaits at the end,

or even, just around the bend.

The scenery blurs on the way,

replaced by memories of every past day.

Memories are more sure to my eye

then all that staccato-like flies by.

When I finally reach bottom

I can let the rock roll away, forgotten.

Finally, I can spend my days at play

take off my shoes, grinning teeth on display

and smiling with unbridled joy at the past

sigh to the heavens, “At last! At last!”

POLLYANNA

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Pollyanna is misunderstood.

She does not smile because 

her world is perfect.

She smiles because 

nothing is.

No disappointment finds its way

to destroy her imperfectly happy day.

HELL ON EARTH

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Prayer has been cheapened by the times.

We avoid the pews where fools recline

and bow their heads to fake news

while making money off government grants

for mega churches which promise service

to the poor and neglected, 

the hungry and disaffected;

yet, vote against every effort to create

a more humane and equitable State.

And, where women fall for the line they are Eve

and evil to want sex 

without admitting how complex

the use of birth control can be

when science is ignored and derided

that men can have all decided

in their favor. Their can be no life

when no egg is released to be indoctrinated

by men of the cloth who refuse to be sated

in their own desires. Instead, women are mired

in deceit and forced to bear the loss of self

to men’s control, if they want to feel blessed.

Enough of this unholy state 

which calls on God’s will to compensate

for their failure to mirror God’s true grace.

Prayer has been lost amid the fray

of those who still kneel to pray

to overcome others who fail to tow the line,

and pay politicians to do their will.

Too many souls have learned to be still

while lies are told and children instilled

with false ideology and true evil;

and their very lives lost to thoughts and prayers

cheapened by the politics of fear.

The path to Heaven has disappeared

as we live through hell right now, right here.

BODHI’S FIRST COMMUNION

Memories of bridal veils and sharp edged crinolines

biting the legs, seated and held still in quiet pews,

hands tight on rosary beads, Grandma’s gifted pearls, twisted,

turning, clacking, in anxious prayer.

Feet planted on kneelers already down

to hold aloft tiny feet in lace-edged socks

in white leather shoes with silver buckles.

Seldom seen relatives from far and near appear

to grace the day so full of grace it overflows

until the urge to flee such attention lightens the air

and breath seems a solemn plea to rise and go.

As my memories do because there he sits,

solemn and silent, and ready as I am never,

with a strength and wisdom so rare

it settles the soul and stiffens the mind

reminding us of the moment soon to arrive

when Grace itself takes form in the Host,

a thought so alive we all rise to process up the aisle

all smiles of delight light us inside and out

as the Host melts on the tongue and our hearts shout

God is alive! As am I. As am I!

Unconditional love exists in this moment of bliss,

in communion with all others, our sisters and brothers

within a family, a church, a neighborhood block,

a city, a nation, an entire world

of people to love and bring inside hearts opened wide.

No human assessment of follies,

no judgement of errors done and undone,

no constant surveillance of sins yet assessed.

On this day

with this child

one only feels blessed.

NIGHT SNOW ON DAFFODILS

Daffodils in the snow, Torquay by Derek Harper is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0

It snowed again during the shortening night;

A staggering and mighty sight

to those who yearn for Spring sun.

I, among them, am one.

The daffodils, though, delight

standing as tall and as resolute as they might

to bear the weight of our expectation,

cheering us on heartily in exultation

that winter’s quiet and tight hold on us all

yet allows the cheerful to stand tall,

and welcome with unabashed delight

another snowfall during the night.

And, somehow, the world, again, seems right.

RICHARD FIERO

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“I had to protect my family.

And, everybody in that room was my family.”

So, Richard Fiero explained,

“These were all good people.”

The soul and heart are strained.

The heart and body are pained

beyond false boundaries of age,

race, gender, and faith.

Who stands partner with such grace,

spread by this hero who stood up to hate?

From whose pulpit will he be praised?

The same one which makes baseless claims

that simply being what God made,

true to self and biology,

somehow makes a sinner who must be saved?

Whose audacious foolery is this?

What jaundiced view leads 

gentle souls astray from God’s bliss

in the diversity of His creativity ?

Such dark roads followed by the judgement prone

lead always to the home which the violent call home.

Close down the dangerous paths from such pews.

Put up warning “unsafe” road signs. Shout the good news.

Accept all of God’s creation, or stand alone.

And, for God’s sake, embrace a truth known well;

following paths of fear lead straight to hell.

DOMINION

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Why must we believe in hierarchical hold

over all of creation when we know

creation is a manifestation humble and bold

of greater power than our own?

Creation is the hand of God

who needs no interlopers to command

what has already been put into a plan

to continue the life force falling from His hands.

No dominion then, an ancient view,

replaced by a single rule of egality

to love each creation as He loves you.

No dominion then, but brotherhood,

as Francis told the Assisi fold,

brother sun and sister moon

brother wolf and sister frog

brother lake and sister river

brother corn and sister clover

brother rock and sister sand

brother man and sister woman

brother children and sister aged

brother Muslim, Hindu and Jew

sister Catholic and Protestant, too.

No dominion needed here.

Brotherhood and sisterhood

held close and made dear.

Creation needs no dominion

to replace our fear.

Faith, hope and love makes this clear.

So preach to creation, but not of your rule.

Preach of your love and promises true

to protect and defend any and all 

which is shared with, not given, to you.