Choice

 

The choice is easy.

 You are living your one life. 

...and while I leave the door of "maybe" wide open to the possibilities of reincarnation, 

for now, on this earth, in this nation,

all I know for sure is we have

One shot at the experimentation

of choosing kindness or "number one" blinders,

empathy or  antipathy

toward my fellow living creatures.

I've been a teacher too long not to offer you reminders

that choosing to only care for yourself

might gain you power and wealth

but at the price of dying alone,

in your palace or expensive care home.

So can you honestly say you'd choose this

before your soul drops below or soars above,

instead of ending your one life surrounded by love?

Be Ready

 

"Be ready my child" the queen bee said

"for the very sight of you will inspire great dread.

Your dark stripes and light will make them cower in fear

or else they'll try to destroy you so you can't get too near."

The little bee frowned. None of this seemed quite right.

"But all I want is the freedom to fly and alight

on flowers to gather nectar, golden and sweet,

and to carry it hiveward on my small clever feet..

Why should they run?  Why should they want to kill me?"

The queen bee shook her head in great sorrow

"That is the question, and it's not at all silly.

They think you're a danger, my child, my sweet.

They only see your stinger, not your clever small feet,

not your sunshine gold stripes, nor those midnight dark.

They fear you in their gardens, as you fly through the park.

All they believe is their fear, and fear makes them mad."

The little bee hung its head. "That makes me so sad.

Without bees  there's no flowers, 

no fruits, no sweet honey.

What is there but these?"  

The queen bee sighed,  "They want power and  money.

more than our sweet honey,

more than the flowers that bloom

to brighten their rooms,

more than fruit, more than life,

more than sky, more than earth."

The little bee wept a small tear,

"then what are we worth?"

Now is the time

 Now is the time to decide

the breadth and length,

the depth and strength of your heart,

your soul.

Are you a part of vast and imperfect humanity,

or is your love sequestered and sealed against all

except for those who have your approval?

Do you have the vision and strength to

step forward into the glowing discomfort of 

love for all,

or will you hide in the shadows of

your own isolated denial?

Now is the time to to decide

because the questions are being asked,

and you must reply.

In a world where we are all afraid,

look at he choices you make, have made

and tell me

what is the depth and strength of your heart,

your soul?

I Grieve

  

For this country of mine

I feel  GRIEF.

We’re a nation built on the razed ruins

Of those to whom this land once belonged,

Should still belong.

We began oh so wrong.

And now the karma is terrifyingly  strong.

I grieve.

Our founders were imperfect, 

Racist,

Sexist,

ego-puffed, wig-stuffed

white men,

but our leader now would horrify even them.

I grieve.

Our system of checks and balances-

Designed to squash the power that is being flaunted

On every screen,

Has been disempowered, distracted, destroyed, demeaned.

I grieve.

Bamboozled, uninformed, foggy minded hopefuls,

Thinking their red MAGA caps and Trump flags

Make them honorable patriots—scandal.

Don't they know they will feel the sting along with the rest of us, or more?

I grieve. 

For our children,

For my children,

For people from other lands only wanting a safe place to land,

For people just trying to find a loving place to stand, 

For students and teachers, librarians and professors,

For tender-hearted doctors, scientists, nurses 

For minimum wage, 3 job holding, hard-working folks who seem 

To bear all the curses,

I grieve.

And I grieve

The loss of our national heart,

The loss of our civic kindness,

The right mindedness to hold up those who are low.

I grieve.

And I grieve.

And I grieve that even when

The smoke of his fires has cleared,

There will be nothing to save,

No global apologies accepted.

He will have thrown us all into a grave

Another grand experiment ended.

I grieve. 

Ground

There are painted words on the ground
screaming from the hot summer asphalt
BLACK LIVES MATTER.
Yellow on black.

There are injured people on the ground
screaming from the hot summer asphalt
BLACK LIVES MATTER
Red on black.

There are desperate people marching,
screaming along the hot summer asphalt
BLACK LIVES MATTER
They read the names of those killed
even as they are shoved
sprayed
pelted
knocked off bicycles and off their feet
by officers of the law.

My kindergarten, first grade teacher's voices
ring in my memory "Police officers are the helpers".
I whitely believed.
Naive.

Now I see video clip memes
of officers  shaking hands, patting shoulders,
being the neighbors and friends
but never clearly denouncing
what their battle-armored enforcement brethren are doing.

Brethren.

Red on black
old people with canes knocked to the ground,
passersby on bikes swarmed and beaten,
peaceful protesters with billy clubbed cracked jaws, missing teeth,
rubber bullets ricocheting off the bodies of reporters,
collateral damage of
pepper sprayed children--
all and more the victims of  battle frenzied police officers
that school children are still
supposed to believe
are the helpers.

Lies.

Lies.

And the proof is in the blood on the ground
all around.

Outsider

In Japan 

my gaijin face branded me an outsider

every second of every minute of every hour of  every day

and yet it was there

I felt the embrace of home

and wanted to stay.

Instead  I flew away

back to this place of my birth.

I am unremarkable here, forgettable here,

another face in the crowd here,

but I do not feel at home here.

Here the willful hatred  of so many erodes me more each day

And I wonder how hollow my soul will be

by the time I can 

return  to Japan

with  my gaijin face. 

In Loving Memory

 

March 15th, 2025

In loving memory of

American democracy.

A 248 year imperfect experiment

demolished in two months

by a supremely damaged man.

This democracy fueled by dreams,

now murdered by greed,

had undeniable flaws

that needed repair to be sure.

However this democracy also

had hope.

Hope now dimmed

at our own hand.

The supremely damaged man

was given the power of destruction

by us--all of us.

Those who despised him stayed silent

with each stab of the knife.

Those who adored him screamed their joy

to the heavens

with each vile illegal, immoral action he took.

Now we are remorseful individuals

for we are no longer a nation.

All of us accomplices

to the murder

of American democracy.