sounds...

fishing pond...
a snowy egret dips low into
sounds of lapping waves

tossing ...
thoughts leap into the sounds
creaking floors

wet sandals...
she smiles into the sounds
dripping rosebuds

above the shawl...
whispered prayers into the sounds
her nursing babe

prelude to light

In a dream of flight,

which came to solitary night,

a rainbow encircled the Sun;

And suddenly I knew

it was always thus, so true

legends of gold fallen to one.

As the flight unfolds-

no longer tired nor old-

I rise, indifferent to direction;

glad to soar, gaze from above

gathered within, all of my Love

the greatest work my life has done.

Deep and slowly run

a river's journey once begun

a wandered web, which time has spun

bonds of endless light,

exceeds the reach of darkest night.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/howard-moore/just-because/paperback/product-3762788.html?showPreview=true

summer hokku

gazing on the slope...
listening as the east wind
interprets the clouds

rolling waves...
dressing and undressing
the shores at dusk

a rainbow
circling the golden sun ...
finds itself

the sparrow and the fishes

There was celebration, in usually quiet congregation

hand-clapping thundered, and rose to rafters.

Bits and chips of leaded paint fell,

like confetti, or moments of immense sincerity,

and Walmart said Amen!

The God of Lesser Corporations,

HIS children reborn, artificial bodies filled-

Transfiguration, spirit to cash-mere flesh,

with life and blood more real than menstruation.

In gloried Halls like Valhalla

rituals profound as Jehovah's, witness to

an awakening, the freedom to be

life and breath entities, by a Godly Court

a decree of  life from ink and paper.

The Spirit of God

moved upon the face of  articles of incorporation

let there be life...

and Walmart said Amen!

Wither the woman, vessel of saints and saviours

your choice to live in an era of manly–men.

Virtue can corrupt the Judges, when measured

by faith in penises. Cast wide the net

and capture every offending fish

for they have thoughts of freedom

choice a voice which interferes
 with the dearer freedom,

the favorite of the law, and only God saw

the sparrows and the fishes

 For the sparrow wanteth not and

 like the fish, thrive in floods of love,

thrash and run in tides of caring,

gathering scraps and pieces of life
 into loving existence.

They boldly hold... 

“there shall be no more waterless sky nor airless water”!

The manly-men scoff, for in sound petition
hallelujahs rise among them, called for Profits

They bare knives and forks for feast and care not
for drought or things beneath the waters.

They know, choice is on the wing of the sparrow

and in the wish of the multiplied fish,

and Walmart said Amen!

_______________________________________

The U.S Supreme Court has ruled (Burwell vs. Hobby Lobby) that for-profit corporations can have religious beliefs; and  which beliefs can excuse them from obeying the laws that apply to them.  While the ruling purports to limit itself to reproductive rights, it does not. This ruling has changed the law into a place where wealth and privilege now have powers to dictate a selective assortment of behaviour controls and morals. In effect it extends and ratifies private efforts to control American citizens.

tides of justice

Time is a patient teacher,
a slow drip that soaks into skin; 
a light bound lesson found in darkness,
an indelible trace of the journey.
Like rings of an ancient tree
counted dear in the stuff that makes us,
a wandering path that ends in truth revealed
before the most unwilling eyes.

The tides of justice ride upon a relentless sea
that takes all and keeps what it will
until it returns upon a someday shore
again to the sun, and in proof of all.

Faith sounds  above the noise
fails not the constant man, a doubtless will
holds power within each moment
to shape the world in the likeness of love.


 

Touching Mangos

In the Mango Trees, untouchable fruits languish

In the full Sun branches bear out of its seasons

Thick limbs bow, fall low, touching among those gathered

Shed hungry tears, that endless seek the restless ground

Would the fog descend and show the veils that hide

The untrue heart, the wanton spirit that assumes

The power to destroy that which it could never create

Life is the richest pearl, and here devoured by lowest beasts.

It chokes air from the lips, and the power of grief

Stays within, coiled like a deadly viper sting

In this land of ancient love, consumed by petty thoughts

That yet control so much, and castes like the worm’s way

Weaken the bond of human to human…

In the Mango trees, undisturbed by the sun and wind

Unblinking eyes regard the stillness of the living world

To behold the essence of breath…the bearer of an unchanged past

and a bitter seed that we must all taste, as we are

to deeply know the sweetness of  tomorrow;

In the Mango Trees, untouchable fruits languish.

Author’s Note

In India and Pakistan, rape of young women has reached alarming and epidemic proportions. These attacks often committed by groups of men have caused deaths and emotional suffering among victims and families, and an erosion of vital human rights of women in both countries. In one recent attack, two young women were found hanged  in a Mango tree. In the caste system they were regarded as untouchables.  It is the hope of this writing that awareness and opposition to these conditions will spread and cause change. The women of these nations have raised voice and outrage and the rest of the world should follow and add its weight, for as long as justice and dignity are denied to these women, it is denied to all.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2645231/Teen-Indian-girls-raped-murdered-left-hanging-mango-tree-pictured.html
 

solstice of the spirit

 

On Solstice Eve we pretend

to play a day that never ends, staying

waves of night that sweep

from an eternal darkness.

So much do we see, that also denies

roost-less birds and bees rise with night sparks.

The faithful lotus keeps its honey scents,

as a windless pause of sunset

joins the comedy of abstinence.

But we are the Stars before vast stars

slowly emerge to claim their due,

and in sticky sweat begins

a year-long shift that ends in frosted air.

We pretend, as in so much of life,

that a day does not end, but

in the heart we know, all worldly things end-

whether well or otherwise- we accept

the hold of gravity on  hourglass sand.

In a longest day, beyond calendars,

the Solstice of the spirit; we lavish all,

immersed in love we have created.

There nothing ends, except as we allow.

Within each grain of hope is pain

of losing; we bear faithful intent to endure,

to beam along an endless path

like the light of mothering stars.

In a Solstice of seasons of being,

we hold the day, and speak in prayer

to the God within each man

to mold a place of light and will

and set seas to roll in endless tides.