had I thought to speak
my mind and heart and conscience
where might we be now

The Daily Post daily prompt: Oversight
had I thought to speak
my mind and heart and conscience
where might we be now

The Daily Post daily prompt: Oversight
“There is much to do and no time to lose because the soul of our country is on the line. We must be brave and stand up.”
~~ Congressman Jerry Nadler

Artwork commissioned for the sole use by Maggie C.
The soul of our country… I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to the soul of our country; to the soul of our society; to the soul of our generation. And – for that matter – to my own soul.
I am not in any position to preach. I’m not immune to biases; to the divisive mindset of “us” versus “them;” to the smugness of believing that my soul is in the right place; to the complacency of assuming that it’s those “other souls” that need adjustment, and so I have the right – nay, the duty – to sit here at my laptop spewing rhetoric about the lost soul of our country.
And yet, just yesterday I wrote about the gutting of our societies’ values and mores. Life is so complicated these days.
I respect Congressman Nadler’s statement as quoted above from his essay on “How We Resist Trump and his Extreme Agenda.” And standing alone, it does not convey his full meaning in those words. But I find the part about “no time to lose” rather thought-provoking. And that other part: “the soul of our country is on the line.” What does that even mean? And exactly when did our country’s soul become “on the line?”
Was it the day Donald Trump declared candidacy? Was it the day Hillary Clinton began using a private email server for official government communications? Was it the day Vladimir Putin took a liking to one presidential candidate over another?
Will it become paramount on Friday of this week when a new president takes the helm of our soul-conflicted country?
And when did this country’s questionable soul status reach the tipping point to where there is suddenly “no time to lose?”
As I said before… Life is complicated.
I would also say, metaphorically, that life is not a 50-yard dash. Life is a marathon. We begin the moral leg of the marathon on the day we make our first ethical choice, and to beat my metaphor to a bloody pulp, I can say that the marathon is run one step at a time; one ethical choice at a time.

Artwork commissioned for the sole use by Maggie C.
No time to lose? Perhaps. Time to assess whether we are on the right track (there’s that pesky metaphor again)? I would say yes. And today I’m doing that as best I can. And I will do so tomorrow. I will do so on Friday, the day of the presidential inauguration.
I will do so — and continue to do so – because that’s how a marathoner stays in the race. And – ultimately — because my soul is on the line.
The Daily Post one-word prompt: Marathon

someday
I will be old
and the shadows my long life casts
will reflect the youth and vibrancy
that once coursed through
the vessels of my soul
and though withered
and drained of color
and grown brittle with time and wear
there will still be a beauty
to the shape and form
grown from many years of
life lessons rained upon me
and the energizing warmth
of unwavering love shown to me
and I will stand proud and content
but mostly thankful
as I face the sun
until it sets
The Daily Post daily prompt: Someday

The Daily Post daily prompt: Shine
#WeekendCoffeeShare is graciously hosted by Diana at ParttimeMonsterBlog.com.

If we were having egg nog, I’d wish you a hopeful, healthy and safe New Year!
I have issues with wishing for happiness, but perhaps we can postulate that if one has hope, health and a sense of safety, there’s a good chance they can find happiness as well.
Oh, the egg nog ran out last night. No problem, I’ve got coffee brewing as we speak.
If we were having freshly brewed coffee, I’d tell you I’ve vowed to put 2016 behind me come this year. No ruminating on fears, disappointments, anger, sadness and doomsday prophesizing. I’ll try to build on the many, many positive moments of last year.
So here is a partial list of what I am wishing for and anticipating in 2017:
♦ The continued blessing of sharing my life with a loving family, companionable pets, and myriad hand tools and DIY project supplies.

♦ Opportunities to contribute to preserving and expanding the beauty and health of this planet.

♦ Tenacity to hold to an ethical, honorable and selfless ethos, such that our society can rise above the mires of that prior year I said I wouldn’t ruminate upon (hint: 2016).

Oh, alright…
♦ ♦ ♦ I also wish for happiness for all! ♦ ♦ ♦
The Daily Post daily prompt: Year
year end reflection
long sigh of resignation
hope comes at midnight

The Daily Post daily prompt: Hopeful

This rather large creature showed up on my deck the other day. I’m not a big fan of creepy-looking bugs, so I was none too pleased to see it lounging there in the sun as if waiting for me to fetch an iced tea and a straw.
“Would you like your tea with a squish of lemon?”
“Uh… did you say ‘squish’?” The creature eyed me nervously. Or at least I think it did. With those shimmering eyes it’s hard to tell where it may have been looking.
“Did I? That must have been a swat. A slap. Er, I mean a slip. What I meant to say was a ‘slice’ of lemon.”
The creature shifted from one foot to the other. To the other… to the other…
“Everyone thinks my kind are terrible, and they just want us dead. Okay, so we suck blood. And spread diseases. And harm livestock.”
“And your point is?” I paused, boot in mid-air just inches above the creature’s head.
“Just try to see the world through my eyes.”
“Through your eyes?” I bent down to study the gleaming, striped, colorful shields that I assumed were the creature’s eyes.
“Yes. Look deeeeep into my eyes.” The creature began to sway back and forth. “You’re getting sleeeeepy….”
I could barely keep my head up. I just wanted to lay down and rest.
“When I count to ten, you’ll see things as I do.”
“You can count to ten? But you’re just a bug!”
“One… two… ”
I tried to blink, to turn away, but I couldn’t. The creature’s voice droned on.
“Eight… nine… ten! Now look at me and tell me what you see.”
I flicked my wings and shuffled my six feet.
“Wow! Words cannot describe!” I marveled. “But you know what? I suddenly have a thirst for blood.”
“Great! Let’s go find another unsuspecting human!”
And with that, we buzzed away into the sunny, blue sky.


Knock knock!
Who’s there?
I don’t know.
I don’t know who?
I don’t know who’s there until you open the door so I can see!




Clatsop Plains Pioneer Cemetery (est. 1846) in Clatsop County, Oregon USA
I grew up playing (respectfully) in this cemetery. It doesn’t look too scary now, but as a child, I had all sorts of imaginings about what might be lurking in the trees, or about stumbling across — or into — a sunken grave, or hearing otherworldly rustlings and voices just behind me.
And while it looks innocent enough by day, you still won’t find me going there after dark.
