Month: January 2021

Somewhere along the way, I encoded an image of a Holy Spirit as an eagle that swoops down to embed its talons or claws into the back of my head and drag me where I would not otherwise go.

I have thought it was in Nikos Kazantzakis’ manifesto, The Saviors of God. Not finding it there, I think the next possibility is his, The Last Temptation of Christ.

Since I would like to reference the image, I wonder if any readers here have also come across the image and know its source. There is also a touch of possibility it is in Kazantzakis’ Odyssey: A Modern Sequel or the work of Carlos Castaneda.

As I think about the image, it is a helpful corollary to a passive sign of safety brought by a dove returning to Noah with an olive branch in its beak. It also adds another dimension to a dove streaming down from a third-story heaven with an announcement of risk-inducing belovedness.

The claws of an eagle directing traffic are closely akin to a “Word” set loose in a creation setting, calling into being—earthling from earth. This is an intentional G*D at work in the world to discover any mechanism of further creation, such as partners.

The eagle is not a partnership image. It is directional in intent, even self-referential. G*D holds a non-verbal conversation with us to reinforce the need to save all those who have gone before and can no longer struggle to redeem their broken context. There are also overtones of necessity rather than fuzzy belovedness. The unborn need preparations made for them to flourish, and that, too, is our work.

Hints appreciated about the source of the image.

a scary truth
scars are bone-deep
an outer sign
of an inner shrivel

twisting contorting
avoiding reprisal
fails in its task
constant safety

anything built
can be brought down
babbling terror
denying its past

to honor a new tomorrow
requires equally honoring
each checkered yesterday

such depths require plumbing
for a desiccated seed
in need of watering

tomorrow demands
its ancestor
be found honored

follow proud flesh
to its marrow
to find our ’morrow

it’s true
I’m scared
of being scarred

so much so
its mere suggestion
stymies choice

only a next door
will avail
wherever it leads

no larger plan
is available
only present escape

looking back
a lack of scars
is the largest

so many gifts
aborted in fleeing
a flaying

so many gifts
still available
even now

lost is not forsaken
a hand to the plow
tills until

speculated scars
no longer scare
trust away

scars too many
one or many
leave us scarred
to the point of scared
of any more
reducing choices
resigned to passivity
ordered to murder
risk in its cradle
sheltered as best we can
beneath false narratives
inevitable scars
aft fore midship
unbelieving
scar scared
might be sacred
seed
rising after
an unknown
into a shelter
become a retreat
deeper in wilderness
leading out
another way
past sad triumph
steady enough
to change scared of
to cared for
walking steady-eyed
ahead anyway

We’ve all seen a “purple cow” rampaging beyond its range. We claim we would never want to be one. Yet, we can’t put the spectacle and the promise of purple milk rising to the top of desired commodities out-of-mind. We remain committed to garnering a monopoly able to be our cash cow. No matter what the color of a cornered market, it all looks green to us. Even invisible bitcoins have a green tinge.

Agricultural innovation is never far from any other that can build a base upon an economic loophole, an enforcer military/police, a purchasable body politic, and a captive educational process able to justify anything with select data points. With these structures, innovation never is innovation. It is just the latest distraction that can be taken advantage of.

If we are to have eyes able to spot the latest illusionist’s nakedness, we will need to better parse out indigo and violet without settling for a generic purple. It is a skill to be specific and not get caught up in what-if and might-be and all the other rumors that cherry-pick information and recombine it into one suspicion after another, each further afield than the last.

May we end this new year better able to cut through life’s illusions. We might start with being clear that a “common defense” cannot generate “general welfare.” Defense always needs more, and there is soon nothing left for goodness’ sake. General welfare will rally a defense when needed. Until we get this, we will lurch from one Space Force fraud to the next. A final lurch will be into the graveyard of every Empire – hollowed until it implodes from a lack of care for what we hold in common.

ends are always drawing nigh
and eventually petering out
the ripples from that stone
in a still pond do fade away

conclusions are stuck like insects
to be displayed behind glass
with a generalized hope
that someone later will learn

all museum collections are not shown
some are incomplete others rotate
there is no unabridged dictionary
some options are chosen against

every eschaton remains speculative
until realized and then passes
within a larger field to passé
vitality can never be past or future

at the turning of a year
we are haunted by what has been setup
we are daunted by all still needed
nonetheless we turn with the year