not the sea
of memory—not
the rising
moon sun star–
not the release of endings
or calculations
that forecast
the turning tides—not
the rhythm
that over
takes the heartbeat—not the
speculations of
dividing
time—not certainty–
only the path
to the far
horizon–vast, unbordered–
on the other side
When I saw Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, I wanted to try to capture it with an idea I’ve been thinking about for awhile. Of course the time required turned out to be way beyond a week, so once again I’m posting an in-process stitching project.
If there’s a deadly sin, it’s power. It’s wanting to be more, by making others less—less than less. It’s controlling with physical force, psychological terror, subjugation. And if you don’t possess the genetic make-up to manipulate others directly, you make it up with a knife, a whip, a chain, fear, lies, starvation, locks, poverty, cages, technology, homelessness, isolation, guns, an army, explosives, drugs, religion, words, the law, bombs, lack of medical care, money, corporations, willful ignorance.
There is no end to the expressions of superiority and omnipotence.
Aren’t we rich? Barren
land, rivers of blood flowing–
empty to the core.
As Dylan observed, “all the money you made will never buy back your soul.”
I’ve posted so many times on gun violence, I’ve stopped counting. The last time was on June 1 of this year.
Every day 88 people die by gun violence in the United States.
Silence weeps
and eyes refuse sight.
No questions
can be posed,
nor answers given. Light is
erased. Dust and blood.
What is the color of mourning?
morning
of empty spaces, and Where?
wear
black, but it has no reply.
Why?
just questions and sorrow.
Tomorrow
will remain unfilled,
killed,
killed. More shots from another gun.
When?
Again.
As Dylan knew, you can’t separate a gun mentality from a war mentality.
Who are we?
It’s haibun Monday on dVerse. Frank asked us to talk about peace to commemorate Hiroshima. I’m not feeling it right now.
