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TALKING ABOUT WHAT WE KNOW


  DOES NOT COMPUTE 

November 26th, 2020
by Glenda S Wallace
Two-hundred-sixty-five-thousand-plus souls gone now.
In the span of nine months...doctors, nurses,
teachers, bus drivers, grandparents, mothers, brothers, toddlers
dead from a novel coronavirus and the conditions of life
today in the United States of America:
Land of the Free.

And that's just a guestimate really.
Our institutional best attempt to corral this new reality
in numbers that are beyond understanding.
History will give us an accounting,
and it won't be pretty.
It will point to the petty.
It will point to the cruel.
 
The Russian Tyrant Stalin said...
"One death is a tragedy.
Ten thousand is a statistic."

WTF.
Yet, I know what this means.
Upset skids across our homeland.
Confusion with a big R reigns.
The Seekers of Truth & Justice
are tired
of comprehending
that which cannot be swallowed
by the civic mind, heart or soul.
Few want to hear time-consuming,
complicated details
when simple resounds.

But...you... you can see the big lie
plotted for decades in deepening furrows,
like the brow on your face when the bills come due.
You know these wrinkles don't fade.
We're not young anymore.

Put on your reading glasses.
Outrage grows in our rut.
It smells righteous now --
perhaps like a pile of crisp paper money,
or old party popcorn drenched in fake
butter -- satisfying to the wronged
and the hungry.

...Onward....

GSW


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“A beetle
will chase after an opening of light,
while a cockroach
will scatter at a crack of it.

How are we different from insects?
Nobody is purely good
or purely evil.
Most of us are in-between.

There are moths
that explore the day
and butterflies that play at night.
Polarity is an integral part of nature
— human or not human.”

― Suzy Kassem
Poet, Philosopher, Artist
 




GREEN MOMENTS
When this calendar year began, who could have expected just how much, or how long, we would be challenged. Twenty-twenty implied clarity.

Who feels clear today?
To say your truth out loud is like touching burned skin... belonging to someone else. All trust and grace is gone.
Belief is a conflagration.

But even after the most brutal hot wildfire on our planet, eventually, green shoots will appear. See them gleaming in the sunlight? We call them hope. And they taste like honey after medicine.

...Fall Down Seven Times....
Stand Up Eight *

Images copyright 2020: Glenda S Wallace

*Motto Author Unknown




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