We worship the moon here;
we sing her songs.
She charms us,
she heals us.
There they bow deep to
the sun.
Here we plant our dreams
and harvest visions.
There they plant periods,
and harvest silence.
Here we intuit.
There they know.
Here we weave stories out
of dreams and grief.
There they weave cities
of blood and sand.
Here the tide ebbs
and rises and when it
rises
the barnacles open and
wave little ferns.
There the coral reefs are
dying;
the bottle with their
message
never reaches shore.
Here we call out names
in celebration of the
family of life.
Here a name holds power.
There a name is lost and
found,
cemented to a building
printed on the sky.
Here a fish leaps and the
river sings.
There a river
is a million drinks of
water,
a million sad stories of
once upon a time.
Here the land is alive,
and the wind
and the stones are alive.
There the land is thirsty
and confused.
The wind is hungry,
the stones, asleep.
If you disturb them
they will begin to whisper
to the minerals in your
bones
and they will gently ask
you to return
the diamonds in your necklace.
Reflection:
This poem is not just
about a dualistic universe, even though, who would deny that this election was
like being stuck in a on / off, black /
white, insider / outsider, man / woman, Republican / Democrat, binary
program. That was two days ago and this poem came out of the rubble of that
contentious year of intense polarization, that, once any chance of a third
party viewpoint was eliminated, reduced us to choosing sides or choosing our
poison. Now we are all complicit, because we are all Americans, right? We're
looking around the way one might when a polluted fog lifts and trying to
salvage some sanity, trying to get our bearings. My son, Evan Lindorff-Ellery
posted a little commentary on Facebook after the election that reminded us that
we aren't just political creatures, we are cultural, emotional and spiritual
beings, but even as I reflect on that and consider it and own that, I find
myself contemplating how profound the divide is between people and people. I
know that it is American and
politically correct to try our best to come together after an election, or at
least act like we are and I, personally, am willing to get behind Trump as our
president-elect . . . But, in truth, right now I don't see Trump as the
problem. Politicians aren't our spiritual leaders or our cultural or emotional
guides and teachers. They are just public servants. They are as powerful and
influential as we allow them to be. We are responsible for what happens to our
cultural, emotional and spiritual environment. So, we have a lot to figure out,
and now that the damn election is over, we best get to it. There is a lot at
stake.
