Art by Marianne Elias

The Soul of the Sea

The soul of the sea speaks to me
as the waves sing in harmony
and winds of wisdom push us along
playing the rigging in rhythm of song

The glorious glowing golden sky bright
with the shine of life-giving sunlight
dancing and mingling amongst the waves
bearing upon the hearts and souls’, it saves.

Is it the reflection of the sea on the sky we see
or is overarching horizons coloring a mercurial sea?
Is it the mysteries of unfathomable deep which inspire,
or is the ever changing sky which lights souls’ on fire?

The music of the birds, the expression of the sky
with reason and purpose we ask ourselves why
not to imagine distant travels on a fair quartering wind
as we fancy ourselves like ancient voyagers of our pretend.

But it is the journey of the soul we always know
which puts us in the middle of this timeless show,
where the sky performs, and the waves sing
and imaginary worlds and journeys begin.

When infrastructure is weak, and fates align
then disaster and its twin, tragedy will find
their chance to do whatever they desire
bringing forth flood, collapse and raging fire
to the people who fatefully left to neglect
infrastructure for which time would decrepit
and they would then say how could this be?
When all along it was they who didn’t see,
it was up to them to invest in their own
lest the twins bring forth horrors unknown.

Sadly, there will be more sins of omission,
leaving  the twins opportunity for commission
of ever greater disaster and tragedy
as we continue unobservant, failing to see.

In a time of divisiveness, justice may be blind
but the people must see for themselves to find
that the system is fair, arguments of facts prevail
not spun to determine prosecution success or fail.

Defenses cannot be given as opinion or hearsay
and the authority of witnesses clearly on display
so that truth can be seen and carefully judged
and lies, and stories terminally be smudged.

Bring the unblinking cameras into the room
to give public witness and we may assume
that the spinners, the shapers of the story
will be drowned by truth in its raging glory.

The biggest story of our lifetime.
The greatest injustice and crime
being perpetrated on democracy
deserves a change in long-standing policy

Bring the cameras in  and show doubters the truth,
and if there be a defense worth hearing, let loose
for this is how justice works, on vertible facts
not crazy stories and insurrectionist acts.

For the defense of our democracy
in the face of attempted autocracy
requires everyone seeing it’s the rule of law
which will be the mighty’s  down fall.

Last night I laid awake
thinking of a poem, or was
it a song, which went on
and on in my head.

I thought to get out of bed,
to get it to paper, but I
persuaded myself I had
written it already.

It  was a grand flight of
fancy, travel to another
time and place, but it
seemed totally in reason.

Something I could sing
to the moon, and it was
beautiful, but now it is
but a memory of a feeling.

The song is gone, the poem
unwritten, but the feeling
of flight remains
etched in my heart.

Unrelenting when it blankets deaden  lands
causing waves and ripples across desert sands.

Creating its own tumultuous winds as a fire burns
and the choking dust, heat, smoke swirl and turns

paradise into hellscape, and lives once prosperous
become unbearable, deplorable and ponderous

from the enormous weight of the blanket of heat
which has now a life of its own, as it takes its seat

on the throne of all concern for what we have done
bringing climate to our lives, and what’s more to come

in the future of this world, for is this just the start
of something worse, and everything falling apart?

Geography and time Separate
and also Unite…

if we allow them such powers.

Ushered by a child to a table
to sit invisible in a service
dead-as-door-knob zone.

Watching service rendered
inefficiently to all others
by new highschool graduates.

Where one thing at a time
belays the visually apparent
fact they have two hands.

A drink served, from a bar
poorly provisioned without
limes on a busy weekend.

But we have bread and oil
and water, for the hour we
wait for our salads.

And yet we are seated,
listening to piped in jazz music
and each other…

We are not in a hot  sun
waiting in some monstrous
queue for a handout of food.

We are not lacking for
indoor air conditioning
and restroom facilities.

Our car waits in the lot
and we need not trek
to a border, or crowd in a boat.

We only require patience
and the recollection of how
greatly we are blessed…

and newly thankful for the lesson.

I’ve cried the Star-Spangled Banner
I’ve traveled America the Beautiful
I’ve faithfully Pledged Allegiance
I’ve sworn to protect her secrets
for which I had privilege to know.

I’ve saluted independence in poem,
and yet I’ve seldom realized
this is by fortune of birth for which
my joy and pride and all I respect
and hail as great is so rare and precious.

Independence and freedoms won
through blood and sweat and tears
and intellect and high ideals in times
long before, and in moments everyday
by those who keep the faith and
keep a most holy watch.

Something sought or required
Like the movie with Billy Crystal
who is looking for that One Thing.

But isn’t this what life is, the
Quaesitum… the grand quest in
life for that one thing?

As Curly said, in City Slickers
“It’s up to you to figure it out”
…  your one thing.

Life is a complicated thing
but so often the one thing
for each of us is a simple thing

May your life quaesitum
be worth the journey, worth the
quest, and you find your one thing!