WAR AND PEACE ---reflections

The lost N.Y. tourist asked, "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?"

The wise ass New Yorker replied, "Practice, practice."

**

BOOM. RATATATAT. BOOM. BOOM.

The explosions rattled my brain, as well as my windows. The dogs started barking and running in fright. I hoped it would end soon.

How do you get to war? Practice, practice.

The military base, on the other side of my mountains, was holding a dress rehearsal. I wondered what real war feels like. I thought of how much I hate it.

Then I remembered that my nephew recently returned from war. Another wonderful relative is a Navy Seal. My own husband was in the military many years ago, and I used to provide counseling to soldiers at the nearby missile range.

A few nights ago, I attended a party honoring my friend's daughter who was promoted to Lieutenant Commander in the Navy. He glowed with pride that his "little girl" was not only in the same branch of the military, but she surpassed his rank.

__________________________________________________________________

She displayed this poster. Said she just had to have it when she ran across it. Memorabilia from before her time.

So proudly, her father pins on her stripes.

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A young man who attended the party referred to his military experience. "I'm so grateful that I joined. I grew up because of it. It changed my life." He hadn't been successful in school and admitted he was at risk of making bad choices. He seemed like a real good guy now, apparently responsible, and definitely appropriately sociable.

**

BOOM. BOOM.

Clearly my hatred of war is incongruous with my love of warriors. Or is it?

My head started pounding.

How do you get to peace? Practice, practice.

The explosions stopped, the dogs calmed down. I sat quietly for a few minutes and I wondered if I love peace as much as I hate war. I have more questions than answers about so many things.

I breathed deeply. My headache subsided.

Just then, my husband came home. I kissed him lovingly, put on some soft music. We shared a meal and talked about the mundane - agreeing and disagreeing about many things.

For those moments at least,

I hope,

We practiced.

Peace.

THE LITTLE FOX

One day, the little fox got tired of roaming his familiar desert and decided to explore the unknown. He ran towards a place that grew huge rocks of different colors and shapes and from which he heard strange sounds. From afar he could also see some large animals with legs that turned round and round and made them run faster than he could have ever imagined.

Though he was a little scared, he dashed towards a clearing. After running in solitude for a while, he stopped to observe two strange animals, an unlikely pair, walking beside each other in silence. One was an awkward creature who walked on two legs. It's eyes were unfocused and it did not hear or smell the little animals in the ground or in the air all around it. It seemed to be walking asleep.

The other was a beautiful golden beast who was confident in his stride and whose nose made him aware of all that was going on. For a moment, the little fox thought he recognized something in him. He felt a connection and could not suppress the sudden, happy urge to play.

So he ran to the beast. It jumped for joy, and wanted to play too. But, the beast was tethered to the two legged creature, who was not playful at all. The creature made mean noises and forced the golden beast to yield obediently.

The little fox ran away frightened and hid behind some chaparral bushes. Sadly, he watched them walk away.

But then he decided to find some other animals. Maybe he could play with some, but hopefully he'd get to eat some too.

****

Based on a true story.

***

(See what happens when I have writer's block.)

MATURE LOVE

(photobucket)

As a child, I dreamed of love.

It's purity stemming from illusion,

kisses and bleeding beating heart,

broken.

Mended by promising thrills

of happiness ever after.

I believed Elizabeth, counting

the ways of loving, greater

maybe even after death.

Now, lightly clouded by illusion still,

love more clearly is revealed, devoid

of frills, of lusty signs, quixotic reveries.

I have seen relationship's complexities

kill repeatedly, limitations of emotion

leading to love's collapse, leaving a void

to be filled by destruction... or life,

resilience contained in vows by choice

unbroken, open to rebirth.

No longer a child, I know

no novel story can recount truth,

of love and time and matrimony.

Not even god of poets can aptly portray

the joy of love and sometimes,

it's lacking glory.

I know, rediscovering

time upon endless time, that

I chose you,

to give my imperfect love, gratefully

I accept your patient, kind reciprocation,

and strongly I suspect

that our LOVE, like infinity,

will have no end.

(Submitted to Poets United.)

****

I had a wedding anniversary this week. After 43 years (I was a child bride!), I can honestly say that hubby and I are closer, more in tune with what's important, real and truly loving. Romance still lives. Possibly, due to the struggles and challenges we've survived, and unlike romantic notions of youth, it has a deeper, more genuine affection.

THE LIGHT OF BLINDNESS

Oblivious reality.

Trapped in blank darkness,

empty unintelligent space

chocking your life, until

only remnants seemingly

imitate true essence.

Yet...

You smile, stumbling

upon secrets, ancient

unconscious wisdom infused.

Unknowingly, you know.

You teach serene, and joyous

lessons surrounded by tempests

viewed by others with false sight,

unaware that it is you,

who sees light.

(Submitted to Dverse Poets.)

***

Within the last month, glaucoma has caused my mother to turn completely blind. Attempts to teach her strategies to compensate, have been futile because Alzheimer's has robbed her of any ability to learn new skills. Initially, I experienced despair and much sadness. I was frustrated, powerless to help her, to find a solution, to somehow change the situation, though I tried.

"Be careful you don't trip," she said. "The lights went out here and they haven't fixed them." Her innocence broke my heart and I entertained thoughts of pity, regret, resentment.

But then... I began to notice, her repeated words of gratitude at my visits, the food I bring, the kind staff at the nursing home, the little things which I tend to take for granted. I noticed her smile and most of all I detected the absence of any negativity.

I realized that out of the blankness of her life, she is teaching me that... joy is something we can have regardless of circumstance, that acceptance is possible, that the heart remains kind and that love does not go blank.

Life is so strange sometimes. My mother did not raise me, and I had given up ideas of receiving anything from her. Yet, now from her blind maternal love, she gives me lessons.

NO PLACE LIKE HOME

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Through windows I watched,

torturous swirls hungrily devouring space,

laughing, howling, clawing

as it played, uncaring

that some cannot bend, survive

sporadic rules of a chaotic game.

Unafraid inside, safely rooted,

protected by reliable warmth,

serenity's spirit caressing

constant, secure order.

Silent pulsing breath of home,

no storm outside can sway.

**

About a month ago, winds were so strong in Southern New Mexico that a piece of my roof was blown away. Later, right before Christmas we had a snow storm. Roads were closed and many holiday travelers were forced to seek shelter in small towns. I imagine many didn't reach their destinations on time.

Typically, the weather is a non-issue here. The sun usually smiles daily. I wondered if the gods had gone crazy.

Then I wondered how I would respond to seriously tragic weather storms or tragedies of life. I hope I never find out, though I've already had many glimpses. I do know that life proceeds with its inevitable storms of varying degrees.

Am I prepared? I think all I can do for now is cultivate a place within me, an inner home, that is stable, unchanging and confident. It nourishes me now as I observe and reflect on nature's ways - a chaotic stability I don't fully understand. Truth is that ready or not, life goes on.

Though hospitality is desirable, this home I cannot share. You must find your own. It is beautiful and unique.

THE CALM AFTER THE STORM

Belatedly I write: Happy Holidays, Happy New Year, Happy Life, May joy and laughter always flavor your life. However, these thoughts have no seasonal or time constraints. I always wish you these things.

I've been away from blogging because a storm of friendly, loving and delightful people have gone through my life and house during the holidays. It was wonderful and joyous as well as a lot of work and change in routine. All storms are like that.

My busy time made me remember what my grandmother used to say about people who become stressed and get little done when they face minimal challenges. She said: "They drown in a cup of water." That's me. I drowned.

Resuscitated, I now enjoy the calm in which I thrive best.

I missed you all and am SO glad to be back.

I hope this year brings us all much peace, love, creativity and more true friends.

Oh, to be like them

They didn't know it was sinful, almost.

Just delicious, naturally sane.

Accommodations perfect

for midday trip through darkness,

purity of nothing,

blank emptiness in spacious silence

amidst raucous of day.

Jealousy harbored onlookers, sighed

green vapors of dismay, wondering

if they'd ever dare undertake

such a voyage lacking reason,

no design or destination

justifying something for its way.

Still the family lay, caring not

about anything, not even slumber,

nor what may be when they awake.

Unknowingly, they breathed sea's rhythm,

as watchers watched and saw

them drenched in blue serenity.

(I just loved watching sea lions during my recent trip to California. They reminded me of dogs and certainly barked a lot like them. I suspect they all go the same heavenly place in their dreams.)