It has a nice ring to it…
Free as if it has no cost,
but it does.

Dom, as if it is a state of being
endowed as a right,
easily trampled.

Often heard as a rally cry
by those who intend to
strangle it.

Ringing true as a bell
in the subconscious of
those asleep.

Keeping them asleep,
for fear they should
awake.

For they might then see
that freedom doesn’t
mean alike.

U who are greatly unique
and highly unusual.

The three U’s of unusual
one up the tu of unique.

There should be a
museum of the unusual U,

where certainly there’d
be long queues on Tuesdays.

And of course ed-U-cation
to be found at the U of U

for the highly unusual and
greatly unique U.

We may be energetic and restless as a people
but we are also static, and bound to our homes.

We move on with great difficulty, but we move
on in mass and until we find ourselves home again.

Goodbyes are tearful, some can never be said,
Memories, legacy and purpose abandoned to hope.

We who are the fortunate children of past migrations
Potato famines, wars, persecution, gold or adventure.

We should naturally sympathize with the plight of
millions on the move, for they are who our ancestors were.

But alas, many would rather pull the ladder up with us
when we leave the bottom, in the name of national security.

We would define our world and there’s as if they were
something alien and unworthy of the hope and dreams we have.

We are no different, we are they, but for the sake of fortune,
and someday their children and children’s children will be us.

The next wave is here, changing us forever, resistance is both useless and unfair. Life is precious and so is unwavering hope.

In a quest to discover,
turning over boats to
find which will float,
suitable for a journey.

Chasing streams of
consciousness, as
ideas float or sink
along a narrow brook.

Finding white water
of turbulence, with its
boulders of challenging
upending ideas.

Bouncing and bumping
toward an open sea
imagining control of
the uncontrollable.

Into an estuary, life
and thought slows,
imagining just maybe,
finally, life is settled.

But still there is an
open sea to come,
with an eternity
of flowing dreams.

We live in an era of the great
devaluation of decency and responsibility.

Truth is malleable to fit the moment,
and deflection covers accountability.

Power trump’s values and cult-like
faith excuses logic and reasoning.

For we apparently have lost our footing,
slipped into an abyss which echos irrational thought.

As it steals the rights of other for the disowning
of liberty as was once our fervent national quest.

This is not the “our-time” I would have wished for
with such a dearth of compassion and thoughtfulness.

I wish for Christian values in an unholy time
and for Socratic reasoning in a chaotic rhyme.

And wish and hope for the next generation
to rediscover faith, logic, reason and compromise.

Does it mean incredible
or incredulous?

Expressed because of scarce event
or is it scarcely expressed?

Is it to say tell me more,
or there’s no more to say?

If you have this figured out,
then all I can say is Wow!

It has a two in it, never a one
following the start of a week
without the fun of hump day
penultimate to Thursday in obscurity
without the respect of pay-day
nor the fun of a weekend day of golf
fishing, or other activity, and there
is no worship or football set-aside.

Never has a holiday… Thursday refuses to
give up Thanksgiving… maybe once in awhile
a Christmas or New Years shall fall, but
it is always with reluctance a day of fun
should prevail, before being sent back to
obscurity for years to come….
even birthdays are put-off until the
a Saturday or Sunday celebration.

Nope Tuesday is the working day, the
sad, so-far-off-the-weekend, the Monday
hangover gone, might as well just buckle
down, for workday productivity,
but never fun, not even the downhill run.
Tuesday is a day for seriousness,
or at least it seems, but one never knows
what might be hiding in the heart of
Tuesday, maybe, just maybe a vacation day?

Somebody, long ago named today Tuesday,
and so it remains, someone owns such a legacy,
for it had to have a name,
it couldn’t just be named Thomas,
or something like an ordinary random name,
and we must name things,
and then the world revolves around such things.

What made Tuesday different from Monday? or Wednesday?
… and how do we know we’ve kept track correctly
since the beginning of calendar-week time-keeping?
Could this really be Thursday as it was intended, and somewhere along the way someone slept through some random two days?Maybe not in a row but over a millenia, is this not possible?

Well if we can agree to call this Tuesday, then why is it so hard to agree to so many other things in this crazy world?
We are a strange race of semi-intelligent creatures,
it is good we have something like naming to provide
order to the chaos of our time.

…. I know the day is Sunday I’m publishing this…. or is it really??

For the grace of routine
gives our minds a rest
providing life momentum.

Without it life would be
overrun by everything,
everywhere all at once.

Further it allows us to be
astonished, when touched
by something beautiful and new.

And for a moment we may
stop momentum, and breath in
the extraordinary.