God is comfortable with diversity
God sees straight
As well as crooked
Black as well as blue

God recognizes
And appreciates each of us
Who walk on earth

Think of another world
Where judging others
Rules the day

What does it look like,
Look around you
It looks like today’s world

Might perceptions change
Where people see each others
With total wholeness
Respecting others
While dropping away
The compulsion
To categorize

Might perceptions change
Might people view others
With wide-eyes
Accepting crooked and straight
Black as well as blue
And become comfortable with diversity

Hosta’s blossoms fade
Mexican Petunia spread
Cleome endures

Few recall when the earth was scraped back
Over four score ago
To show the extensive gravel waiting to be abused

Horse pulled wagons consumed bites of earth,
One shovel-full at a time
To spit and ***** their contents
So no mud holes will grow  
Along trails black with mid-west loam

These roads carried us to and from places
To get what we did not need
For we knew how to be sustainable
Long before it became a popular movement
Long before progress discovered the quantity
Beneath the outer bones of the field across the road

So often he attempts
to change words
he has said.
Words that he says later
do not mean
what they convey

There will never be
enough blotters, or erasers
or black markers to cover all
that he would amend
or alter if possible

A secret disclosed
once redacted
becomes evidence
that he desires his words  
to remain unconfirmed

A secret is a secret
only if concealed,
totally hidden
and never unearthed

Redaction is an action
to revoke or nullify
words and actions that
may or may not be undoable

Dear indecorous,
Used only from time to time
The word for our day

You are exacting
Better than unbecoming
******, or ill-bred

Ungentlemanly
Incorrect, inappropriate
Unseemly, or indecent

I know I had a dream last night

The dream was the first thing I remembered
when I woke up

I know it was about a child
Perhaps a near baby

I was with a male friend
Though I don’t remember who

I’m sure that I was at a baseball game
Which I left before it finished

And I left the child there
With some people I met
Sitting behind me

I do recall being told by someone
Perhaps my wife

To go back and get the child

Which I was doing when I was awakened
By a noise on the street

I hope the child is okay

Without the label of a teacher
Nonetheless things are pointed out
With care and diligence

Comments meticulously exacting
As though there is a sixth sense
About what is detailed

More than busy, attention is thorough
Rigor seeps from every statement
Oozing inside the listeners skull

How much perseverance can
Be understood while feeling
Crushed beneath a microscope’s slide