Monday Morning Musings:
“It may be the luckiest and purest thing of all to see time sharpen to a single point. To feel the world rise up and shake you hard, insisting that you rise up, too somehow. Some way.”
–Paula McClain, Love and Ruin
“We can never go back to before”
Lynn Ahrens and Steve Flaherty, “Back to Before,” Ragtime
Once we had two maple trees in front of our house. They provided shade for our house and shelter for wildlife. But they were diseased and had to be cut down. The birds and squirrels have moved on. We will plant daffodils around the stumps, and life will continue, though we can never go back to before.
green leaves turn golden,
sun sings grey skies blue again,
flowers smile hello
Once people saw tyranny and began to rebel with acts of resistance against their government and king. Time sharpened to a single point for some then. They felt the need to rise up. They launched a revolution that was bloody and horrible, as all wars are, that divided families and friends.
sweethearts say goodbye
leaves sigh and fall from the trees–
red blood on white snow
Old Pine Street Church Graveyard, Philadelphia
But it was also a revolution of words and actions that created a new nation, the first written constitutions, and gave some hope for freedom and equality to all—though that did not come about till after another war and new laws. We harken back to before, but we can never go back.
And why would we want to?
demagogue appeals
blames “The Other” for problems–
false hopes and false words
Wishing on the wood of the last Liberty Tree. Museum of the American Revolution, Philadelphia
Azure skies send us
outdoors to eat–a plus
seated where we gaze
at history and listen
to the foreign phrase
of people who pass by
and wonder why
they’re here, but know
they come and go–
in this city of hope and despair
filled with travelers
and immigrants,
rising like the nation and the sun
on the famous chair.
Lunch outside the Museum of the American Revolution, facing the First Bank of the U.S.
A sparrow joins us
Replica of the Rising Sun Chair
We watch a movie,
the wife behind the great man,
though she’s really greater than
he is,
she says she is “a kingmaker,”
but more than that—
this is
a nuanced performance
that show the complexity
of relationships—
which is
the basis of government, too,
and I think of the before
when we had a king
and bid him adieu
and now the one
who longs to be king
daily sings
(so unbirdlike he tweets
never soft and never sweet)
Will we let the kingmakers
let it happen?
Well, as the foot-tapping
musical notes, “history has its
eyes on you.”
It is complex,
and perhaps what we need
is a nuanced performance.
Though the choice seems simple—
do what you need to do.
Do not believe the lies.
Do not support the liars.
Let’s not go back to before
when I did not have a voice,
when women did not have a choice,
when people I love could not love,
when people I admire could not vote—
keep this sinking ship afloat.
I feel time sharpening and shadows gather.
But ask the star
how it dazzles and
kisses air with joy—
We are prisoners of time,
embrace its rhythm
and smile.
Once there were two maple trees, but now they are gone. . .
yet life goes on.
We visited the Museum of the American Revolution. Saw the movie, The Wife. Trailer here.
Here is Marin Mazzie, who died last week, singing, “Back to Before.”
