Monday Morning Musings:
“Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see.”
–Fortune Cookie Wisdom
Moon music whispers
a lust for life—and light
in the darkness.
Ask—does the sky ache above
seeing death below?
There, like the shadow
that lies black beneath the rose.
The power of her voice in song–
now only her shadow sings–
caught on video and audio, sing along–
to “A Natural Woman,” it brings—
as now a nation fears
the future filled with tweeting jeers.
He and they try to destroy the press
but those of us who cherish thought
protest. We need the freedom to express
ourselves without duress.
Though the shadow ones know—some are bought—
some are complacent, some complicit–
elicit the illicit.
We sit outside, it’s still summer hot
though autumn hovers in the shadows
and we begin to think ahead, no, perhaps not—
there’s still time to sip wine, dip our toes
into pools or walk a sandy beach
and reach. . .
for love. Seek time with friends
fight the shadows, that lurk around us
and yes, we can’t know how it ends
hate is around, and it’s been ever thus.
It’s a fine line we walk
but we must talk
about the hate we see, it’s been freed
no longer do they lurk in the dark
the white-robed shadows proclaim their creed
of white supremacy–they bark
and parade in the open to dog whistles from above
and we must spark the light, the dove–
she flies somewhere high, beyond this rainy sky
where we walk through puddles on cobblestones
the air scented with summer flowers, and all the whys
float through the air, and do we care about the bones
that lie beneath us
the souls that flit above us
in the shadowed world, we cannot see
we shine a light, where is the door,
where is the key?
In the before,
we look for the after
and the in-between
is still to be seen.
There is no moral, this is no fable
but disaster can come suddenly, coffee spilled
across the table.
A recap of my week. Aretha Franklin died, the nation’s press fought back against 45’s attacks, we drank wine, and we saw the movie BlackkKlansman. Trailer here.