Why is it that you can go back in time as you go deeper in the Earth? Where do all the layers of dirt and rock come from? Is the earth getting bigger? We live in the Holocene era. This era of time is near the surface. But millions of years in the future someone will be digging down to our time, to see what we were like, what refuge we left behind, what records of our primitive behaviors, our wars, our industry, our pollution, and our lives and entertainment.
But back to the question, does the Earth get fatter? Well not really, the Earth is recycling, it brings it’s core through volcanic action lava and ash to layer over the surface. Water crushes rock and deposits it from rivers and glaciers move boulders, and rock and dirt is displaced, and continents move, creating mountain ranges that give us majestic views. The layering of one continent over another drives them to grand heights and layers of earth below. Our planet is living and breathing at a metabolism much lower than we can sometimes comprehend. But it is alive and it will have its say about our era, and sometime in its lifetime it will bury us deep, deep enough that we will start over and find our way towards a new era, billions of years from now.
Last night I was watching the news and saw the federal police use horses to push peaceful demonstrators off the streets in front of the white house, they used rubber bullets and tear gas as well as their horses and batons to move people, so that the president could speak on the lawn and tell the states to get their act together, to beat up and rough up the protesters, or he would send in the military, and he was doing this to protect our rights to have guns (2nd Amendment) and law and order. … the guns-right thing could only be to send a message to his right wing-nuts that they could carry guns into state capitols and intimidate others to get the country open and protect their businesses literally and figuratively. And he made no mention of the tragic killing of yet another black man at the hands of criminal police that need to be justly arrested, tried and convicted, a right they denied George Floyd… then it became clearer why the streets were cleared of protesters, as he walked across the street for a photo-op in front of St. John’s church that was boarded up because of previous night damage during protesting turned violent. People were hurt and treated roughly so he could go for a photo-op holding a bible, initially upside down until one of his sycophants corrected the pose. Protesters were wrong to do damage to property and hurt others, including police, and the president is wrong to stoke divides in this country.
My God, what evil has been unleashed on our country by our own people, by our votes that said we don’t care what kind of person he is, just tear down the (deep) state… the mechanisms of government that protected us for years and still work despite his drive toward authoritative rule …. we are descending into a hell of our own making… rather than taking the opportunities to address the sins of our past and present with just changes and understanding and sympathy for others. Donald, just go to your bunker and stay there locked away with your fear and go ahead and spin your narcissistic stories of greatness, but keep it to yourself, your form of help is not needed anymore.
We are born without memories We are potential We are not good nor bad We are an empty jar Of our own color, size, and shape To be filled with experience From the first breath with sounds And sights, that we cannot comprehend We are given the gift of love Of understanding, of free will And so we begin to choose What to listen to, what memories To remember, what to forget What are the war cries of our tribe What are the sorrows of our history What is it that gives us identity We choose to embrace or to adapt We choose from the words we hear What to believe, what not to believe We choose to be aware or not We choose to hear the pain and sorrow of others We choose to not hear the war cries of agitators We choose to be a force of good We choose to replace anger with forgiveness We choose to seek justice not revenge We choose to vote for those who share the love of justice We choose to understand that what we have in common is greater than what separates us… Or we watch the world burn!
If you could travel time Would you be here now Would you find another era Would you fix what was broken Would you relive glory days Would you go to the future just to see what would be Just to answer life’s mysterious fate Or to the past to understand life’s mysterious origin Or maybe to ask the question why?
Each morning is the same Everything is possible Time travel is available So history can be changed False heroes and villains abound Artificial volcanos erupt Flobsters, like a virus attacks But Doctor Greene explains Anti-matter and temporal stations In a twilight world of science Technology and cultural idiosyncrasies Bias away from what we could know Towards appeals to our base instincts But here in fantasy, miracles of Heroes Provide the solution If only Optimus Prime, Heatwave and Bumblebee were here To save the day, then we too Might just believe In each other and Be heroes for each other
I read this poem from last year and thought it worth repeating this Memorial Weekend and add in our thoughts those that died this year providing healthcare, emergency response, and essential services. Each risking exposure to COVID-19 in the effort to fight for our lives, our freedoms, to fight back the enemy on our shores. We have a duty to do what we can, wear a mask, social distance, as well as remembrance prayer to honor all those that didn’t say why me, or find someone else to send… they jumped into the fight, wanting to help and of course wanting to live. They valued their lives and we should remember and value their sacrifice.
Memorial Day Prayer
Flag flies bright from the porch For those that carried the torch Into the darkness, into the awful fight For us to enjoy freedom and safety at night The sacrifice, of those women and men Who answered the call, with how and when Not why me, not find someone else to send And they gave all they have until the very end It is right then, that we remember and pray For those with the angels we memorialize today
In the days of old Everyone valued gold But it was costly to mine So with magic potions they played Hoping to hit it rich some lucky day Rather than the labor and time Of smelting ore from a mine No matter what the scientists said They sought magic solution instead Like today’s quick cures being sold To the gullible, as if it is pure gold Allowing the virus to all to go away Because the economy must hold sway As the doctors grimace in the back The Alchemist sounds like a quack Selling a cure to get others to buy That the economy will surely fly For the vaccine we must not wait We’ll trust a potion for our fate You’ll see, and surely you be pleased Just don’t test, or look at the numbers In this way you won’t be displeased.
On The Voice a contestant sang a song I had not heard in a while, that is just a great song, and amazing poetry… and right now seemed just so appropriate to the times. So I thought I’d post it here. It was released by Louis Armstrong and the writers were George Weiss & Bob Thiele
“What A Wonderful World”
I see trees of green
Red roses too
I see them bloom
For me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
The bright blessed day
The dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow
So pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces
Of people going by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying
“I love you”
I hear babies cry
I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more
Than I’ll never know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
I stood in the rain today, pond gazing Watching drops bouncing off of the water… Small drops, small bounces in perfect mirror of a rain drop Imagined, as I do not see the drop speeding to its terminus I just see the reaction… Producing perfect little circles that spread quick To intersect other circles, building and interfering Creating a disturbance, that’s disturbing other disturbances As if it is a world unto itself, that cares not if we watch While it has its peacefulness shattered With each and every drop, like tears that disturb The peacefulness of this world and all that care About it, and all that live within its boundaries And suffer the disturbance of millions of drops In a world that cannot recover it’s peace Because it just keeps raining While we watch
About this: Some have said that the deaths from the pandemic don’t matter much as they are mostly old people and those with pre-existing conditions, “they may have died sometime soon anyway, so it’s a tragedy but not the catastrophe that people are claiming”. People die, it is true, but who are we to see this pandemic as something political? I see every unneeded death is a catastrophe, and a disturbance to the peace of a family, a disturbance to the peace of the world, as every life intersects so many others, and it just keeps raining…. while we watch
I remember the thought of knowing the sky Being a Scout, trying for an Astronomy badge Discovering what noble Indians know of the night The constellations, I wanted to be able to show To all that would listen, I would tell of Leo I would announce Aquarius and Orion I would point to the North with confidence If I ever needed to help navigate in the dead of night So I studied in the library, those glossy books Pictures that were perfect and thought I knew What I’d see if I could only see, but the clouds Never parted and the city lights obscured So that I was thwarted because only In those glossy books could I know the stars And now those lessons are lost on me And when I gaze and when I can see, The stars, they don’t quite speak to me As those stick figures connecting the dots In the days of my youth, when I longed to know What the noble Indians would surely know They are now just twinkling dots of light And I’m pleased to enjoy their beauty As I understand how light has traveled time To present something wonderful for eye to see Even if I may never quite hear them speak to me
