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Six feet for life

Six Feet for Life

Round decals, mostly yellow
for visibility with traction.
Some with shoe prints,
some with binary figures,
symbolize social distance,
suggest six feet apart
and caution six feet down.

To follow this narrow path
means leaving hope behind.
Conflict moving forward,
conflict of contagion,
personal space imposed,
health care redefined as
mandated protection.

Too many losses, trust
not the least of them,
certainty not becoming,
certainty becoming blind.
The symbols, cast down
before our dazzled eyes,
a mask disguising lies.

A society torn asunder,
a trumpet call to arms.
At first with compassion,
at first with reassurance,
soon bitter accusations,
words like misinformation,
and disinformation.

The science, infallible
as a guidepost to treason,
preys on fear of illness,
prays on sickness, death,
sows the seeds of division.
While some fight to live,
others fight for life.

Three years in, what symbol
will mark the next steps –
globalized tyranny, or
global-sized heart?
Traces of decals
shiny as fresh scabs,
dare us to pick at them.

LMC

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Immortality

My name is not Jesus

I can’t walk on water, but never tried –
it would be an act of vanity to succeed.

Besides, my feet would not fit inside
the little pail I must carry with me,

full of leaks. Someone is always there
with a cup; my throat is parched,

but they never give it back. Could this
be the rumoured water of life?

I can’t feed the multitudes on two fish
or turn water to wine, it’s already gone

as ransom to covetous kings, who loiter
in the clouds and gloat how high they are,

how far they can see. And they ignore
how far I hope they will fall.

I can’t heal the blind, the lame, the lost,
that requires faith beyond mine.

Tongues speaking forked languages
have forgotten how to listen,

there is nothing I can teach of the ways
of living that they will accept.

I can’t even know with any faith,
they will leave me unmolested,

even when I am holding out the last drop
of trembling water on the tip of my finger.

But then, pardon will not be mine to give.
I can’t summon god’s grace, only my wrath.

As I said,
my name is not Jesus.

LMC

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Random thoughts


Too long since the last post. And, I just realized that the contact email address I’d set up in 2020 didn’t work anymore because messages weren’t being delivered, so that’s been updated on the main page. Good intentions to post more often, but life, gardens and a broken arm are a challenge. Just to overcome inertia, here are a few random thoughts I have thunk over the years – do with them as ye will!

I can be light, or I can be blind. It is merely a matter of choice.

Seek knowledge for joy, not power. Agendas corrupt knowledge with their quest for control.

Anything goes when you’re being metaphorical.

Pigeons peck at a square of broken bread, and commune with the offering of apology and yearning.

Ego is a defence. With compassion I no longer crave approval, and instead I seek to align myself with the universe.

Pictures do say a thousand words but first you have to learn their language.

Love yourself. You will always be there for yourself. Love yourself for being vulnerable. It’s okay to hurt, it’s not a permanent condition.

Clarity doesn’t assign blame. Clarity encourages conscious evaluation and constructive response. Blame is a way of avoiding action and staying trapped. Blame is fear based. Fear destroys.

You use the cleaning thing to clean the thing but how do you clean the thing that cleans?

Misery demands an audience; courage consoles itself in silence.

Beauty is a reflection.

Shanti…

Cats speak the language of mystery and instinct

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Sun Dog at work

May 30th, 2022

Another one of those almost missed opportunities – if someone else hadn’t spotted it, I wouldn’t have noticed. It was a working day of one thing after another, little time to look anywhere but forward, and certainly not up. Thankfully Sam and her eagle eyes in sunglasses did see, and I captured this amazing perspective.

Nature is amazing and splendid and full of beauty, sometimes inspiring peace and joyful thoughts, other times hinting at less benign circumstances. This sun dog warns that a change in weather is coming, often a storm and rain.

In actuality, after an online search, I learn that what I saw is actually a sun halo. But it is manifested by the same weather conditions that results in sun dogs. Sunlight refracting off ice crystals in high clouds known as cirrostratus. A sun dog generally only appears when the sun is low on the horizon, however sun halos can be seen even when the sun is high.

The sun halo is an honest sign. After a lovely warm day, sunshine warming the inside of the greenhouse to “I wish I’d worn something cooler” temps, it was more comfortable outside with the breeze. It is a reminder to enjoy this kind of day, while it lasts, simply because of it’s rarity here in NL.

The rain has begun now. With the cloud studded sunset to the west, I am optimistic that there will be no storm, but the weather network does call for a week of rain.

On a positive note, rainbows also signal a change in weather. I’ll keep my eyes open for one when the sun comes back!

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Give Thanks Mantra – Poster












Give thanks to yourself for coming to your practice today,
Give thanks to the earth for supporting you on your path,
Give thanks to the trees for sending you oxygen to breathe,
Give thanks to the sun for being nourishment and the light on your way.

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What Dragged in the Cat

Optimism is an old cat.
Clumps of hair,
tip of ear
missing.
Gum-shot of eye,
tail dragging
after too many nights
of worrying what’s out there,
waiting for it
on the street.

Instead of just staying home
curled up by the fire –
clean bowl of water
and kibble in paw’s reach –
he insists on going out
into the dark chaotic
to restore order.

LMC

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A mantra for today

In Life and Love I find / Courage and Health designed

Crafting that phrase, finding just the right words to spell out the intention, repeating it to refuel the essence of humanity.

Such words will bring solace and comfort, if I can hang onto them in the dark days to come.

There are always light days and dark days. Sometimes a day contains elements of both, one is just the flip side of the other after all. But each has their place and their purpose.

The dark for the growth it feeds, much like the soil coaxes open the seed and nourishes the roots. Protecting and supporting the vulnerable.

The light, for the joy in observing new energy rising, flora seeking sunlight and sharing the other side of breath with the fauna. For possibilities and the unknown. Learning to live with uncertainty.

No candle before me in meditation, but there is the sea out the window to observe. It is constantly changing and reassuringly infinite. The waves and the troughs on the surface; water molecules act together to create a form that undergoes constant metamorphosis – because the water is alive.

It absorbs and exhudes, as do all forms of life in their own ways. All part of the whole.

Nature is healing. Gratitude for this immense universe we are all part of.

In Life and Love I find / Courage and Health designed.

LMC

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Conquering the illusion of truth

Actual knowledge is like the morning sun,
a long gradual process
sometimes blinding.

Self-control and delayed gratification require
more than acquiescence
more than reward.

A heart must be exercised,
stretched to accommodate
another viewpoint,
another perception;

understanding and acceptance
are learned, they require strength,
commitment,
compassion.

Healing will come when each person
answers and makes amends,
searches for peace
in change,
not chains.

Holism
is not a set of rules.

It is
opening the eyes
and the soul.

It is
questioning
and seeking answers.

It is being willing to be wrong
and strong enough
to make it right.

LMC

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“No grudges, no revenge” – Banu Negar’s death

They didn’t just kill her,
that mother, that wife,
carrying another life
inside
when she was beaten.
Not only she
felt the blows,
her family’s hands
tied, helpless,
children screaming,
husband swallowing rage
with his fear,
vomiting as her brains
stained the walls
of their home.
The eight-month foetus
suffocating slowly,
bleeding internally, dying,
for a cause it will never learn.
Perhaps better,
if that is what awaits.

The lies will continue
until the beatings stop,
morale
will not improve
through the imposition of masks,
and dissent from within.

LMC