Friday 6 March 2015

the perfect storm

america will never be destroyed from the outside
if we falter and lose our freedoms
it will be because
we destroyed ourselves

from the inside 

Abraham Lincoln 

t h e   p e r f e c t   s t o r m

sometimes our leaders get it right
maybe there's something inside them
that points them - in the right direction

where suddenly
everything makes total sense again 
and they run with it because
it just feels right

without hope, we have


this post is inspired 
by my very first “zen experience” 
(religious experience?  ok if you feel more comfortable with that)
there have been a few since
rare - but yes real
and all because
this one

still rings true


 it was early spring 1985
unusually warm, but still that familiar
chill in the air

in a whisper of wishful thinking

 my younger brother and i bought two kites 
and on a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon
 we trekked down to the Thames River near Woodstock Ontario

to fly them

David always had a way with these things 
as his kite went up effortlessly and in minutes
  he laid back on the grass 
lit up a smoke and watched it sail
beautifully over the river

  i struggled with mine for at least an hour  
 it crashed several times in a plowed, muddy field
this is such fucking bullshit - literally
tired, sweating - ok fresh manure
all over my new running shoes
hello ? frikkin pissed

the line is tangled - yet again

 when i finally did manage to get it up
 (no pun intended)... it wasn’t positioned right
  it was over the field, not the river

 i continued to struggle with it 
until i eventually lost my patience 
and tied the damned thing to a bush

 not caring - if it crashed again


frustrated and defeated, i went for a walk 
along the rivers edge

when i turned to look 
a couple of minutes later 
i was shocked to see that my kite was gliding beautifully

over the river


the path of least resistance
was never an option growing up
like it's just a bad idea - "the easy way never works"

as kids we're told that everything 'good' in life
is something that we must struggle, fight for
die for

learning otherwise as i age
better late than never


there is this thing that happens
peeking in when we're secretly expecting it
that timely sign - signal

that familiar voice ... "good night baby-girl"
later, that haunting glance from someone on the street, earlier that day
that old song in a vintage diner on queen east
stepping in to get out of the cold wet wind
dream catching our curious cradle
while we cry to sleep

being carried to safety in a new orbit
with Daddy again

the trippy trigger happy holiday holocaust 
that changes everything

question is - do I pay attention - listen
or ignore it?


it's that moment when we pass into our midnight slumber

those few seconds when we tumble into terror
trembling and yet flickering

seeing something - not seen before
a vision - awakening briefly - wow
relishing it's return 

our first real dream of the night
(back and into a second and third - bittersweet sequels)
is usually the most endearing
in that it exposes our 
telling truth

an affirmation arrival - approval upheaval
captivating - cautious - curious

pointing us in a new direction
in absence of the tragedies and injustices of this world

the dark headlines instilling fear
in a healing tear

in reverence
of a fond remembrance

of all that worked right 
his soft voice caressing you
telling you that it's going

to be ok

when all the constellations are aligned
that music composition where the production and performance

the timing - nailing it
almost effortlessly

dog is in - kids are in bed
free to wonder - imagine

Dad is gone

looking out in awe, years later
at the twisted triangulation, and yet
being at peace with

listening to

t h e   p e r f e c t   s t o r m

expose yourself to your deepest fear
after that, fear has no power and it's freedom shrinks

Jim Morrison