death

all the living

Between Oases
Are the dry patches of
Misdirecting and wanting
To find a trail to the comfort
Of the next Oasis..
The secret
Yet to be discovered by many
The weary traveler:
Pause on your trail and
Be introduced to the You
Who has never departed
The Oasis...!

I always thought prodigal meant
profligate, dissipated, or debauched -
such unpoetic but robust words.

There’s the story of the prodigal son
the young man who got an early inheritance
from his old father and left home
to spend the wealth
on ******, and sinful living
yet when he returned home broke and broken
his father received him with open arms and tears.

Sadly I can identify with that son
having spent so much
in such a way
over my lifetime.

But a man told me it should be called
the story of the prodigal father,
the daddy whose love for his son
was utterly lavish, reckless, and generous.

Oh, to be a man
with such an extravagant love!

Let There be Barbies

          Let the children have their night of fun and laughter.
          Let the gifts of Father Christmas delight their play.

                   -Churchill, Christmas Eve radio address, 1941

Some young mothers ban Barbies and Santa Claus
And all such trinkets and dolls and mummeries
Sacrificing childhood to fashionable gossip -
In obedience to the Holy Internet

A toy Cochise must never ride again
Or little plastic soldiers defend their forts
Or Maid Marian roam with Robin Hood –
Barbie must never be dressed for success

Little children can now sit on the floor
On Christmas morn to play with ideologies

Find good in people and ignore the bad in them.
4/12/2020

we have forgotten
how small we really are
even though the simple sky
full of bright yet distant stars
would remind us every night
if we would just turn off the lights

we have forgotten
our true place on the earth
as the responsible care-takers
we weren't cast out of the garden
we left by our own free will and choice
neglecting important dependants
in our search for a better life