Happy 34th, 2 Poems
24022-T
I go back to where I’m from sometimes
Where the corn grows knee high by the Fourth of July
Two lane roads, narrow and neglected
I know them like the back of my hand
I return to the land of silos and sky
Smoldering smokestacks and wind turbines
Factory farming and pesticide sprays
February landscapes’ frigid gray
Grid roads unroll single stop light towns
Human inhabitants outnumbered by cows
The winter sun, as cold as the moon
I rest like the trees, waiting to bloom
The little girl I left behind
She doesn’t know it, but she’ll be fine
She looks for signs to find herself
The lake and woods, faded roads going south
I learn to abide in the interim of life
Content residing in darkness and light
Stable in the world’s changing identity
Peaceful with the places that held me
Permaculture Humans
We live our lives as tales that are told
Spreading our memories around like compost
Cultivating meaning
Redeeming
Our soiled existence
One hand on the plow
And one on the gun
That is our tongue
Planting truth
Through pesticide lies
Infecting the ground we all share
For 34 years I have observed the commotion
The notion
That its all about the individual
“My truth” and “self-discovery”
That ends in isolation
Chosenly severing the gift of communion
“Iron sharpens iron” but only in the same bubbles
Blowing hot air lest our habitat crumbles
We poison each other in our neatly tended rows
Harvesting production
Valuing protection
Against that which would make us
whole
We need each other
And I don’t mean occasionally
But rather invasively
Learning to share and love
Even if it kills us
As it should
When we come out from hiding
Like scales falling from eyes
Or skin shedding to make room for growth
Room for the other
It is the only way
Our seeds
Our stories will survive
And guide
The next round of growth
Heartier than ever
Maybe a little wild
But with collective purpose
With less energy lost
On inward focus
And more observing and participating
In outward symbiosis
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