Societal Ask

Can we acknowledge the richness of our resources:
that which sustains and endures? Always looking for the next shiny thing,
craving the exotic, the surprising… pushing purpose, movement… toward what? Telling ourselves we want lifelong commitment, and then moving on… emotions depleted. How do we define standards, intuit and reassemble a frame, counsel a collective, when expectations, creeping and woven into consciousness, resemble oppression? Hope -as sold by patriarchal mindsets, striving to mutilate common sense – is useless to revive when society teaches us to blindly follow the unintelligible…

Full moon a warning –
reverence for mystery
not conspiracy

Society’s light
waning on the back of lies-
hopelessness surreal

Hate is born from fear
disinformation a tool –
We are being played.

Step back! Cautions moon
observe under a new light –
reconnect with love.

(This poem, derived from a dream, started as a haibun – prose followed by a haiku – but the haiku multiplied. Guess we will call it a variation on a haibun. Image my own.)

Turn away but stay informed…

Yesterday I had to tell a young woman that the charity who were offering free flights out of Poland has discontinued the program. She shared that the countries around the Ukraine have also withdrawing help.

What could I say?

Many of us have stopped watching the news as the devastation is overwhelming. Television outlets now minimize reporting.

History repeats itself because humanity lacks the stamina to for the long haul. As many as 15 million Ukrainians will be displaced because of this war joining the 100 million displaced due to other world conflict.

I don’t have the answer to this dilemma; I’m just stating what I observe. Our collective priorities do not offer solutions. We fear losing our own status quo.

Understood. Turn away, but please, stay informed.

(Image mine)

Eagle Speaks

Eagle walks amongst us,
wings and chest puffed out
exhibiting wounded pride.

He is parched, dry-throated;
fear has clouded his vision,
grounded his glorious flight.

He shudders at indifference,
sidesteps throngs busily rapt
in personal agenda, forgetful.

Once regal, once revered, he
is reeling from the fall, seeks
a compassionate ear, finds me

in the Dreamtime, moulting
feathers clinging to ebony
legs; I try to brush him away

detach from his misery, but
cannot shake the power of
his symbolism, the promise

of his majesty; disconcerted,
through the veil of sleep, I
try to find reason, connect

push through the crowd of
disillusionment, and seek the
refreshment he craves, what

little I have to offer this
golden representative of
a nation momentarily lost.