The Better Waves

Everywhere everywhere we have waves bouncing around.

The sun sends them to us, across 93 millions of space. They hit our little planet; they reverberate in all kinds of ways. Some of them we capture and channel into energetic uses.

Others we do not capture at all. They just ripple around placidly in places unseen.

Out in the wild, in some natural place where the planetary stream gently trickles through unspoiled environs, we may notice waves just rippling along being their leisurely selves.

If we peer closely at them, we may notice the universal vibration passing through our brief moment in time and space.

In other locations, where humans have captured the waves and trained them into commercial or utilitarian applications, they just degenerate into more of the blahblah interference that we encounter every day in our electronified existence. Like this pic taken at a gas station, where apparently the petrol pushers have determined that we cannot be without electronic stimulation for any amount of time—even the 2 or 3 minutes it takes to fill an itinerant gasoline tank.

Although it is strangely reassuring to see a human face there in the mix, especially a pretty one. . .

 

Glass Chimera

Our Given Rivers

Oh, give them a river.

Cut it

cut it right out of the earth

with water that bleeds out from the granite,

then circulates life back into heart of this planet

Make it bleed out upon dry ground;

let it gush pure and clear and clean,

gurgling, spurting, splashing

gashing great ravines through this ancient rock.

Slash them rock basins;

slice them with your gentle flowing waters

your cascading waters your

raging waters

and these trickling streams . . .

they irrigate our farmish means.

and they spring forth with human dreams.

Your rivers we desire;

they're more manageable than the fire.

Allow them not to vanish.

Banish not

banish not our watery dreams,

Dry them not

Dry up not our springs and streams

Perish not

perish not our ponds and lakes,

our flumes, our fates,

these precious, flowing life-givers:

our trickling and raging rivers.

Glass half-Full

Beneath the Folds

Many and many an eon ago,
the earth upon itself did flow.
Magma splattered; lava rolled,
laying earth in fold on fold.

While peaks poked up in seismic lifts
valleys formed in with earthen rifts.

Mountains rose up to skyward dreams,
valleys settled into watery streams.

When Man wandered out across this earth,
his life came renewed in newborn birth;

our legacy rose up in times of old,
beneath the covering of Woman's fold.

Together, our human adventure we did form
through thick and thin, through calm and storm.
When man's stony knob doth ascend, 
Hallelujah! woman's cleavage doth transcend.








Glass half-Full