Another solstice tide rolls in.
Yin gains strength each day.
Nature battens down the hatches
for another year.
We've come a long, a very long way,
from the caves to moon landings.
But we have built our house on clay and sand.
It wont last but a few years more -
the walls are all split.
Each storms widens the cracks.
Each spring the shoreline shifts inland.
The people, it seems, are asleep -
or under an mortal spell,
mesmerized with gadgets, gods and gossip.
To think they are innocent is wrong.
Within the people, a dragon,
sleep disturbed,
rises.
The powerlessness of the people I fear most.
A cornered rat is a dangerous rat
and so is wo/man..
This poem (if I be so bold to name it!) came during free moments the Holidays provided. The year closes, the big wheel in the sky completes another cycle. And what have we achieved? Are we a step closer to heaven? Or to hell?
In those quiet moments, when one is alone with one's own thoughts and the year's end invites a summing up, we are tempted to contemplate the path we are on, the way we walk. Where have we come from? Where are we going? Who are we? Will the New Year bring release or more of the same?
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