Points of View

1.

Loss is what we think of
when alone.
Our temporary joy, turned lasting grief,
conveys us as a current
to our deaths;

so, look most often backward
to the joys,
surprises unexpected.
Hold them close
and savor for the moment,
regret their passing.

What lasts are joys remembered,
red and gold,
autumnal leaves that fall.
O, sweep them not away!
But let them rustle all the way
to calm oblivion.

2.

Anticipate the future! That's the cure!
Stop looking back.
Greet what may come with hope!
Stay focused on the traffic.

Avoid the trap of eddies,
watch the stream,
look forward to whence it comes!
Void introspection.

If you haven’t the strength to swim,
then pole your way.
If you float, you’ll be caught along the way
and end up flotsam.

3.

Perhaps there is no answer. We are blessed
with different dispositions
and seldom learn
what we have not received by birth
or early education;

do not believe what others try to tell you.
Make way as best you can,
give way to others,
and, thus, relieve the pressure,
the need to win.

What’s important is to fully accept
winning’s not the goal.
Survival is the task!
Exhausted you may be. You did not flag.
But neither did you sink.

4.

And so give up our lives, lift arms, surrender
what has been torn asunder like our dreams,
and fail to touch the wonder: how the streams
of many lives converge and then branch out
in ways so unexpected we're surprised,
yet sometimes fail to notice how these streams
beginning small, grow rivers, finally lead
to bays and then to oceans, carry silt
and sometimes seeds to lands where new life sprouts.

5.

It's time to take time out. We need a rest.

We do not swim alone, though so it seems
when focused on one stream and so demean
the efforts made by all for bad or good.

What we mean so often is not said
and what is said as truth is often not.
Of those deceived we are deceived the most.

We drive our struggling planet to the wall
as though it were our prisoner. What we call
necessity is nothing but fear and greed.

The desire to be first? It cannot last.
We need to be elastic. Content to go,
and not content to stay; more can than may

the garnish of our lives; our lives that fail,
devoid of any content, like the pail
that never can be filled because of holes.

6.

And so it is: holes drive us, deepest need
engendered in our childhood, holes so deep
they never can be filled and so deprive us
of complements of sleep: the dream, the wish
unable to revive us. We sink and sink
until the light of day no longer tells
the passing of our time, nor clocks the stream
that moves on, but without us, and we lean
face down beneath the surface, sifting silt.
It is our own reward, a thing achieved,
but only for ourselves, admit no other
to the circle of success which is divorce.

7.

Of course, I also dream another world
where mankind is not master,
where rocks and trees are seen as living creatures,
where all life grows according to its whim,
and every feature treated as important:
fur or fin or feathers, or bare skin;

where man is not the measure, not even close,
and Darwin's world takes over; life controls
the way this earth recovers, if it does,
but not by engineering; insects throw
their concentrated weight against the glow
of streetlights; sun and moon enough for them;

flesh eaters glean and clean this earth of weakness,
build strong herds of deer and elk and bison,
bring fish and birds in plenteous numbers back,
let earth go quietly to dogs,

who now converge to cast off any loyalty to man,
once more to roam
and do such natural things as digging dens
and so themselves be strong.

Such is the world I long for, but I fear
what comes is pure destruction:
none can hide
from the evil mankind has done out of greed and pride.

8.

And so I mourn this earth, this earth I love,
the only place I know where love can hold;

so too a place of evil, greed that grows
and hate that like disease expands and spreads

to each and every land where mankind folds
its hands and bows its head and with eyes closed

says prayers to man's advantage, pretends above
is where authority rests, not where our feet

are found in their meanders, and where we greet
the morning and the night with thoughts that thrive,

but never pure emotion: the joy that drives
our heads to bow in thanks and hearts surrender

a number of times each day control; also remember
that here on this earth there is cruelty and also tender

touches that reconcile, a welcome smile
and the seeking of forgiveness. There are still miles

of roads and mountains steep feet need to walk
and promises to keep before earth sleeps.