Scarlet, russet, orange, green— the colors bright against the sky pewter, lead, as clouds fly
one day bluster, one day calm gulls and geese mind the storm of swirling wind, cold and warm
opposites attract, or do they simply fight in thunderous rumbles, a response to flight.
In darkness, we seek light, in longest night, the dawn apricot and pink, shy sparkle then gone
but where do we go when hate comes again cycles of not if, but when
in endless journeys, ships in the night, dreams of a future— streams
of thought from the past, ancestral visions caught or checked? What happened, what comes next?
We need both bread and roses to survive, to thrive beyond existence, life and alive
to hope and beauty– to plants seeds, then wait for others to germinate
tender buds, well-nourished— bread and roses, not blood and lies, a nation fraught
with dangerous thoughts bread and roses, not mobs and guns— the ones
who shout loudest attract a crowd, but circles and seasons, round and round the sun rises, beams from sky to ground,
even if we’re not here, even if no one is around, the star-birds twinkle and sing, wing light into the future, red and blue shifts bright beyond our sight—
some travelers in some time hence may see not only relics of destruction and fear, but traces of love sown and grown, still echoing here.
The weather has been strange, and the news has been frightening. We took a trip to Longwood Gardens last week just to get out of the house. We wore masks indoors, though some did not. We had a recent COVID scare, but fortunately my husband and I both tested negative. Yet some people still refuse to wear masks or get vaccines and believe the pseudo-science they hear.
My theme was also inspired by this Marginalian post about Rebecca Solnit on George Orwell’s Roses. Bread and Roses was a poem set to music and used as a union marching song.
Last night we watched an interactive streaming play called Witness by the Arlekin’s Zero Gravity (zero-G) Virtual Theater Lab. It shares the experiences of the Jewish refugees on the St. Louis, which left Germany in 1939, only to be turned away in Cuba, and then other countries, and combines them with stories from more recent Jewish immigrants from Russian and Ukraine, along with discussions of recent acts of anti-Semitism. It was interesting and thought provoking. My grandparents came from what is now Belarus and Ukraine.
This morning I saw so many vultures just down the street from where I live. I could hear their wings flapping. It was thrilling.