When Sky Shares its Alphabet

When sky shares its alphabet, light is the first and last letter of its lasting language. Every cloud is a syllable speaking the shape of a thousand and more things. Insects, comets, and kites teach us the words of the here and gone. New lexicons are built from rain. The wail of thunder, the fire-hammered flash of lightning release our voices from gravity-bound burdens. Rainbows and auroras shower our every utterance with technicolor parades. Mothering night births our grim thoughts into twinkling stars. We sing pure freedom. Our voices fly like birds into the bright bell of another rising sun.

Uninvited to the White House

Football players uninvited to the White House. Reporters uninvited to the White House. Joy, love, respect aren’t welcome back. The same with tolerance, compassion, and intelligence. These days, ain’t much good hanging ‘round those White House halls. Hate and toxic logic spread like hot grease on a wicked skillet. Vivacity’s movable feast has been replaced with a famine of idiocy. No telling who or what’s next to be uninvited to a presidential event. Better hold on tight to your party hats as we ride the wild tilt of this troubled world.

Welcome, Rise, Repeat

Goodbye to the broken heart. Goodbye to the heart that crossdresses as death; the heart that chases ambulances, cheats at Monopoly, plagiarizes skywriting. Goodbye to the heart of fools gold and busted pianos, book burning and unlearning. Goodbye to the heart that beats a crooked path in the blood. Hello to the heart that beats a truer, steadier song. Rise and continually repeat yourself.