That Conundrum

Well, you know the type, generally
referred to as reserved in temperament.
The kind of person who always seems to
have a supercilious hint of a smile flickering
over a face that's otherwise hard to read
a really annoying trait that doesn't tend
to rouse confidence in the casual but
frequent acquaintance. Exemplifying
in fact the kind of personality you prefer
to acknowledge with a quick smile and a
swifter but polite parting. Something most
definitely off-putting about such people.
They don't seem to gain much in the
company of others, sufficient unto
themselves, you know? Well, you think
you know and you may be wrong. They
may be self-contained and that might be
because of social awkwardness and a
sense of not 'belonging' whatever that is
to whoever feels that way, an uncertainty
you don't share. And then the day comes
when the facade slips and a torrent of
confessional intimacies inundates the most
casual of passing conversations and you
stand there, an unwilling and confused
confidante until the realization dawns that
this person whom you've meant to avoid
whose presence makes you uneasy and
whom you don't think much of is really
another person in need of a friend to 
confide in. What's your response? Will
it make any difference, misjudgement?

Exhilaration!

You've just left nature's garden and as you
strolled through the forest trails noted the
absence of vibrant foliage for yesterday's
violent winds and rain swept them from
the branches of the forest canopy and
drained them of their colour. On the forest
floor a litter of detritus, long-dead branches
newly fallen amongst decomposing tree trunks
turning to their destiny as compost for the
forest. Nature is busy and sees no value
in tidying up her garden, but soon you are
in your own and under dark clouds where
the late morning has been cast in dusky
shades you rake. You have few deciduous
in your garden, mostly conifers, but your
neighbour has a large maple and another
an oak and they line your garden beds and
litter your lawn and you feel joyfully
braced with the cold wind blowing them
hither and yon, taking huge pleasure in
filling compost bags with the desiccating
foliage, their fragrance returning you
momentarily to childhood. You carefully
snip back the rose canes still cheekily
setting up tender pink-white buds to bloom
pull the last of the yet-blooming annuals
and empty the garden pots of their soil.
Suddenly rain falls copiously and you
are grateful, euphoric, your mission well
accomplished. What a wonderful day!

Doomed to Fail

The tribe of Judea has been faithful in its 
gratitude that YWHW made his ineffable
presence known to them that they dedicated
themselves to his glory in perpetual worship
and thus has it been since the beginning of
ancient history tasked by the Almighty to be
a light unto the nations and through the goodness
of their existence obeying heavenly guidelines
impressing upon others the magnificence and
the power and the glory of God. Despite an
almighty struggle against the forces of disbelief
and abhorrence the people of Israel failed in
their task, their numbers arrested, their presence
abroad and within their ancient homeland 
diminished as the world memorably rejected
both their belief and their presence. Their
spiritual devotion saw reflection in the brief
presence of a Messiah, one of their own whose 
adherents still despised Judeans' presence on 
this Earth and devised countless monumental 
atrocities for their destruction. From a second 
source taking possession of God's scriptures 
for their own came another source of violent 
persecution with no end. Through millennia 
reduced to centuries of malice and threats
struggles and death the people survived in 
discreet numbers unwilling and defiant against 
those intent on their final destruction. Through 
sheer intransigence to total annihilation Jews 
survive, their detractors claiming for themselves
the position of God's emissaries on Earth have 
also seen abject failure. Only their creator can 
know why he chose Jews to herald his presence 
and through that abandoned them to their fate.
Hear Oh Israel, the Lord thy God is One ....

Alert, Aware, Aversive

Control and power? Begin at the beginning.
Language, communication, the power of
words in the long stretch to control. Name
yourself in terms that appeal to the audience:
National Socialism; a world of good can be
read into those words, and nothing ill can
possibly result from a dictatorship whose
stated purpose is for the people of the people
by the people, now can it? If the people are
Aryan they represent perfection in the human
body and spirit, the ubermensch whose storied
achievements will lead to world domination.
If the people are Jews they are destined for
total elimination despite that among them
are exemplars of extraordinary expertise in
science, medicine, the arts, economics, music
representing a cleverly covert cover for their
true aspirations to assert complete control of
the world's news media, finances and politics
to serve the exclusive needs of a people who
in reality are a scourge wherever they inveigle
their venomous presence. Those charges nicely
bolstered by skilled and relentless parodies 
depicting Jews as evil, consciencelessly brutal
spreading viral disease wherever their polluted
wanderings take them. The verbal assaults
succeed wildly leading the willing to accept that
these sub-humans have no place in society
anywhere and must be exterminated. The
test of resolve from Kristallnacht to the Ovens
of Auschwitz succeeded but yet failed for
the pestilence still roams the Earth despite
the dedication of anti-Semites everywhere to
destroy what they themselves can never aspire
to become; decent and  honourable, prepared 
to forgive the rank stupidity of humankind
while maintaining the clear vision that what
occurred once struggles constantly to reoccur.

 

Worshipping Nature

Worshipping nature in her own
cathedral I am her grateful child
as around me giant cedars lift their
heads to the sky and I am wholly
embraced by their presence
welcoming me as simply another
of her peerless creations, living
breathing, growing, glowing in
the sunlight shafts penetrating the
great canopy of this old growth
forest where I walk among the
elderly and the compassionate
viewing immense downed trunks
nourishing seedlings of the forest's
future, those nursing lots fulfilling
nature's instructions that nothing
be wasted and everything be
recycled. From death arises new
life, and so it is there and anywhere
that the cycle endlessly spins to
rebirth, renewal and the ultimate
creation of a perpetual blueprint.

Is That All There Is?

Little boys? Destined to be men. From  the 
moment they are able to put several words 
together they express their uninhibited 
intentions to do many things to become as 
they are meant to be stalwarts of society to 
undertake arduous, important tasks that will
reflect their manliness. Men? They look back 
with regret at the abrupt loss of the manic
inquisitiveness that propelled them to
experiment, to challenge and to relish life 
for the reality is just so sadly mundane. Gone 
the spontaneity and the glamour, gone the 
aspirations and the excitement, for they are 
merely men and there can only be so many
firemen and astronauts, jet fighter pilots
and titans of commerce upon whom all 
others look with envy. Even those who have 
achieved the summit of their ambitions find 
them hollow lacking the sheen their fevered
imaginations burnished them with as they 
targeted Dame Fortune. Little wonder then 
that so many break out briefly from the psychic 
prisons that life has corralled them within
in reverberations of antics consonant with 
youth and so unseemly in staid adulthood. 
This surly condition of the human spirit.



 

In Recall

Do you recall some while ago, and we
won't speak of the number of years
and the passage of time, but then you
prided the keen eyesight you were gifted
with and used to compete over how far
you could see with sufficient clarity to
read road signs or see a distant bird in
flight and have no trouble whatever
making out familiar faces at a remove.
That's around the same time that you
began to notice how strangely the
elderly moved as though shifting a 
great weight and taking their time to 
accomplish it. Discreet conversations
reached your inquisitive ears, no problem
whatever making out details meant to be
shielded from your knowledge. It was a
time to be sure that free agency was 
denied you as being too young to be
fully responsible for shielding yourself
from the dangers that lurked everywhere.
You've long been a free agent but the
senses that served you so well during
those early years have evaporated to
the extent that your sight and hearing are
compromised and the burden of your own
movement that so impressed you as odd
is now yours as well. Ah but you assure
yourself, cerebral functioning is intact
it is only slight things that slip your
mind and eventually you do remember
to shut off the faucet and the stove burner.