A poem about the middle, about the anti-polarity.
We have danced so far
toward opposite poles
that we’ve become magnetic,
drawing each other closer
as we pull so frantically apart.
Our rhetoric and plans may seem
so utterly opposed, but
tones and tactics grow
so similar. At times
Today’s most radical,
most Revolutionary route
might be–perhaps–to take a step
towards the center, at least
in tone or tactic,
in the face of opposition
and defiance to throw up
a wall of joy, a flag of heart.
Prompt for Monday
I’ve been wanting to do a dream poem. Since tonight is the Full Wolf Moon, I thought I might ask that wolf to send me a meaningful dream and use that for my poem tomorrow. If I don’t retain a dream in the morning, I’ll make something up. Heh. Join me?
1. Wolf Moon rising, caught in the branches of the locusts on the ridge
2. Fiery orange sunset
3. Sun dogs
4. Women of the Faire, and roasted garlic, goat cheese, and hot pepper jam
5. The village who raises our children: Be kind. Be safe.
Much love. May we walk in beauty.
Grandma making peanut butter cups: