* rage rage against the dying of the light ~

when asked what i myself am doing
as the new adminitration is channeling
orcs, goblins, trolls and ....
my answer is quick and true -
reading poetry..
lots of poetry !

this morning as the news filtered thru
i found my self inquiring into
the art of self-immolation..!
light my fire
the sacrifice of the self for a mighty cause..
a suicide for the great benefit of all ~
gandhi's fasts were of this ilk..
many ways to kneel and kiss the ground..

as i researched the pheonomenon..
the images coming forward were
unspeakable, gruesome, frightful..
& as i looked deep into myself of self..
i did not have the stomach for it..
still, so very interesting to see
that that is what first arrived on my plate
of insights this morning...

to change my mind
i am out for a frozen bike ride
along the seashore..
a shoreline that is being eaten away by
oceanic power waves ..
erosion..wearing away..

the sun pouring down like honey..
the waves receiving that sweet luminosity..
white with light unnameable..
seabirds gliding on thin air..
untroubled and hanging in the gracious ethers..

struggling up a hill in a nearby neighborhood
(remember, no gears on spike the bike..)
i note a street coated with flags hanging on every house..
which america are they saluting?
i want to knock on each door and ask..
is this a home of the free?
are you crowning the good with brotherhood?

'tis a morning of mourning to see
the erosion of a homeland..
&
the end is the beginning...

remember the line in the sand?
you were there, on the telly, part of
the military. you didn't want to 
give it but they took your money
for those lethal tanks and the bombs.

minorities,  they don't have a country, 
even if they vote:  "thanks anyway,"
the majority says, and you are left there
staring at the sand and the line they drew,
calling it a challenge,  calling it "ours."

where was your money when the tanks
grumbled past? which bombs did you buy
for the death rain that fell? which year's 
taxes put that fire to the town
where the screaming began?
                     ~ william stafford
                        the way it is


thoreau on civil disobedience..

the authority of the government
must have the sanction and consent
of the governed..
it can have no pure right
over my person or property
but what i concede to it.

if 1000 men and women were not to pay
their tax-bills this year, that would not be
a violent and bloody measure,
as it would be to pay them..
and enable the state to commit violence
and shed innocent blood.

i do not care to track the course of my dollar
'til it buys a man or a gun to shoot one with,
but i am concerned to trace the effects of my allegiance.


gandhi on nonviolence.. civil disobedience..

the basic principle on which the practice of nonviolence
rests is that what holds good in respect of oneself
equally applies to the whole universe.
all mankind in essence are alike.

this is the essence of the principle of nonviolent noncooperation.
it follows therefore that it must have its root in love.

civil disobedience is the inherent right of the citizen.
they dare not give it up without ceasing to be a (wo)man.
civil disobedience is never followed by anarchy ..
...to put down civil disobedience
is to attempt to imprison conscience.

to see the universal and all-pervading spirit of truth
face to face one must be able to love the meanest creation as oneself.
and a man or a woman who aspires after that
cannot afford to keep out of any field of life.
that is why my devotion to truth has drawn me
into the field of politics:
and i can say without the slightest hesitation,
and yet in all humility,
that those who say that religion
has nothing to do with politics
do not know what religion means.



throughout history our mystics, sages
and religious figures speak with remarkable accord:

we are all cells in the timeless body of god.
as you have done to the least of these, my brethren,
you have done unto me.
the i is not separate from the you.

sometimes, there is a magical moment 
in an expression or a gesture.  in that moment,
we do not see the other person.
we see ourselves and, for that instant, we get it.
it is a small breakthrough to the infinite.

once experienced, we are forced to either deny
the event and the sages, or marvel at our relationship
- our unity - with all others.

and from this unity we realize
that to wage war on another
is to commit suicide.
                  ~ nels christianson


do not be ashamed

You will be walking some night
in the comfortable dark of your yard
and suddenly a great light will shine
round about you, and behind you
will be a wall you never saw before.
It will be clear to you suddenly
that you were about to escape,
and that you are guilty: you misread
the complex instructions, you are not
a member, you lost your card
or never had one. And you will know
that they have been there all along,
their eyes on your letters and books,
their hands in your pockets,
their ears wired to your bed.
Though you have done nothing shameful,
they will want you to be ashamed.
They will want you to kneel and weep
and say you should have been like them.
And once you say you are ashamed,
reading the page they hold out to you,
then such light as you have made
in your history will leave you.
They will no longer need to pursue you.
You will pursue them, begging forgiveness,
and they will not forgive you.
There is no power against them.
It is only candor that is aloof from them,
only an inward clarity, unashamed,
that they cannot reach. Be ready.
When their light has picked you out
and their questions are asked, say to them:
“I am not ashamed.” 
A sure horizon will come around you. 
The heron will rise in his evening flight from the hilltop.
                ~ wendell berry


* dylan thomas - of course