Monday Morning Musings:
“Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.”
–T.S. Eliot, “Burnt Norton,”
You can hear him read the poem here.
“Only a free and unrestrained press can effectively expose deception in government.”
–Justice Hugo Black, New York Times Company v. United States (1971)
“Wouldn’t it be fun if all the castles in the air which we make could come true and we could live in them?”
–Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
The present passes, becomes the past
the future now, and now is then.
We ask how did this happen and when?
Too fast for us to learn,
to slow for us to train
the grasping hands
the lizard brains?
In May 1933, they burned the books–
but that was there and then
now here, and again,
a leader tried to censor the news
suppress the press
(What are the choices? Choose.)
“I am not a crook,” he said
before he fled
his seat of power
(looking ever more dour)
But that was then
and it is now,
though there are echoes of before
(his followers ignore)
hate and fear
always in the air
like war’s harsh glare—
sow discord, let others bleed,
while those in the lead, feed their greed.
Bright days turn to stormy nights
we gather inside
and hold our fears at bay
waiting for a stay
from thunder and lightning flashes–
the zigs and zags across the sky–
but in the morning,
the birds still sing and fly
this is the present,
the past, the future whys
converge,
the past, present, future merge
as it’s beginning to do within my mother’s head
confusing the threads of history and time
sometimes—no reason, no rhyme—
but just the way it is
a bridge to what is, or could be
if only we can see—
somehow—
We celebrate Mother’s Day
a made-up holiday
from what was a protest against war
to one of flowers and treats—
for some, for us, it can also be sweet—
Flourless Chocolate Cake and Cannoli Dip
and we’ve done all this before,
but still—
my mother has a great laugh—
and it would not be so bad
if that became her epitaph–
gathering with love around a table
as long as we are able
is wonderful and something we need.
No, that is not greed
to desire love and peace.
Perhaps I sometimes long for castles in the air
wish that was here or something there,
want the best for my own little women
as my mother wished for hers
and her mother for her children
in the past, which is now, which was then—
I wonder when?
