It is Time!

Time is Now

 

It is time to be a listener.

It is time to look

And see.

It is time to know the difference

Between opinion

Fact or

Dream.

Yet it’s also time to tell some stories.

Time to let the mind roam free.

Time to open hearts

To conversation

To let imagination

Be.

And it is past all time

To hold compassion.

It is time for patience, too.

Time for kindness

For remembering

The essentiality

Of holding

You

As well as

Me.

 

 

For The Daily Post

 

 

Champion Compassion

love4

Champion compassion, not judgment.

Hold close kindness rather than disdain.

Treasure connection over hierarchy.

Prize intention above gain.

Cherish empathy, for it will nourish.

Uphold truth …

Remember

Learn.

Protect hearts, and peace will follow.

Defend the weak, and they’ll be strong.

Nurture hope, and it will grow sturdy.

Safeguard the Earth

Where

All

belong.

 

 

For The Daily Post

A Beauty In Numbers

Each multitude

Is made of individuals.

Each crucial

Together forming

Something

More than

Any sum.

starling-flocks-murmuration-04

 

Abundance of blues. Photo by Yuri Okhlopkov

Abundance of blues (Photo by Yuri Okhlopkov)

 

 

school of fish

School of Fish (Photo Credit Unknown)

 

Flamingos. Alex Shar

Flamingos (Photo: Alex Shar)

Twister Photo by Norbert Probst

Sheep in line--Photo credit unknown

Sheep in Line (Photo Credit Unknown)

 

Even …

Decked Out Ducks. Photo-Boston Magazine

Decked-out Ducks (Photo: Boston Magazine)

For The Daily Post

In The Vivid Light I See

photo-by-kristin-manson-on-flickr

Photo: Kristin Manson

And in the vivid light

I see

People divided

Anger, glee.

As in the storms of

Right or wrong

The spaces in between

Are shorn.

Confusion swirls

Known facts to eddies.

Certitude dyes

Friends into enemies.

I see the children’s eyes

Bewildered

As lessons taught to them

Turn riddles:

“Be kind” but watch the adults bully.

“Be calm” but let grown-ups live cruelly.

“Be patient” yet role models tantrum.

“Don’t fight” as those who said

Not to

Attack, throw barbs, play foul

Speak awful.

Their little foreheads crease

With frowns

Which do they follow:

Said, or done?

And

In their vivid light

Do see

The path glows clear

A road to be.

Past time to wash away

The livid rage

Recall the lessons

Of their age:

Hold space to listen

Pace to learn

Revisit patience

Drop hate

Stop spurn.

 

 

For The Daily Post

The Line

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Photo by: A. Barlev

 

They walk the line as morning comes

As new day draws its dawn,

They walk as night approaches close

And sunset sinks alone.

They walk the line of now and then

Of sand and rock, death, growth,

They walk as footsteps mark the soil

And press it deep with hope.

They walk where many walked before

With others not yet born,

They walk in dust of those who passed

Of stories told and torn.

They walk to sew new roads to life

Connections old as time,

They walk a line of young and old

Their hearts as close as mine.

For The Daily Post

The Sounds In The Silence …

 

“Hello darkness,

My old friend,

I’ve come to talk to you again …”

The song plays incessantly in my head, sparked awake by the words of a pre-teen who shared her nighttime worries with me.

She finds it difficult to sleep. Her ears strain to pick up any errant sound: A car’s brakes, a slammed door, people’s voices, steps, a distant bark. She’s afraid they’ve come.

She’s been told she shouldn’t worry. She’s done nothing wrong. Yet there are those who hadn’t, and still had loved ones taken. And she’s not from here. Not really. Not from birth, anyway.

What if the rules change and she’s deemed “returnable”?

What if they keep her away from her parents, send her back to where she’d come from? What if she cannot find the words, if they not let her explain that she is finally, finally, home?

She lies in bed at night. Listening. Making and discarding plans. Fretting in the dark.

Maybe she’ll hide. But where? Someone at school said they sometimes have dogs. She loves dogs. Police dogs — beautiful and focused and proud — never used to scare her. They do now. At their handlers’ command, they can hunt her down. She’s seen it. On TV. In her mind. Now her dreams.

“I listen to the sounds in the silence,” she whispered, eyes bright. “And I wait. Even in my dreams, I listen … and I cry when they come.”

 

 

For The Daily Post

Can You Hear?

Can you hear the hearts that beat

across the mountains, deserts, oceans

hoping for safe harbor,

an anchor

home?

Can you see small fingers gripping

other little hands

bereft of parents,

lost,

alone?

Can you hear the soft breaths

of babies

sleeping

in tired arms

weighted by

desperation,

violence, hate, war?

Can you hear the calls

in dreams

in prayer

for safe passage

for a welcome

to belong?

Can you —

how can you not —

hear,

the urgency

of hope

that hardship snuffed

and yet

still

yearns to grow?

 

refugees-express-co-uk

Photo by express.co.uk

 

 

For the Daily Post

 

The Scent of Home

syrianrefugee-unicef-photo

Child Refugee – Photo by UNICEF

The scent of home that she no longer has.

The spices, baking, the aromas

Of togetherness

And family

And love.

The scent of grandma,

Gone,

Killed by bombs.

The scent of ugliness

And war.

The scent of mornings

Blurred by smoke.

The scent of sea, now tainted

With the stink of gasoline

And sick

And worry.

The scent of tent

And mud

Hunger

Cold.

The scent of hope

Faint but held

In Baba’s handkerchief —

He said he’ll find them

One day

In Wherever Land.

The scent of fear

In mother’s arms

Trying to filter comfort through her own terror

Devastation. Loss.

The scent of home that she no longer has

Wafting away

In search

Of someone

Who will help

Her

Make a new one.

Speak up, Live Truth.

no wounding

Replace your fretting with a voice.

Speak up

About your truth.

Resist the wish to curl up under pillows

To avoid

Unpleasantness

Conflict

Misunderstanding.

Push against the wish to look the other way

When humans

Someplace ‘other’ than your home

Flee injustice.

Replace apathy or indifference

With empathy.

Replace a narrow vision

With expansion of your heart:

There is no ‘us’ and ‘them’ unless you choose to emulate

Those who seek to divide and control

Instead of heal.

Replace your fear of the unknown

Your terror of the ‘stranger’

Whose lives, religion, culture

You don’t understand …

With the wisdom that we are

And never stopped to be

First and foremost human

And our children are as

Precious

As those born in other lands.

Replace the need to marginalize,

With the understanding that the only margins are those

We choose to accept

Or follow.

Replace the lumping of the ‘other’

Into warring words and baleful messages,

With actually seeing the individuals:

They are no different than you,

No less in need of help in times of crisis

They are no more inherently capable of hate

Than you.

Reject rhetoric that equates your safety

With the deprivation

Of another.

Replace it

With the facts:

We are stronger together

Than we ever can be

In division.

We are better together

Than we ever can be

In isolation.

We are safer in compassion

Than we ever can be

In prejudice or xenophobia.

We are all that we will nourish.

Speak up.

Let us help those who do not yet know truth,

See it

Hear it

Understand.