Spiritual insurgence
Story is for me a spiritual insurgence.
:- Doug.
In the name of the dewdrop—
and of the raindrop—
and of the beer—Amen!
:- Doug.
Archive for December, 2020
Breathe together at this remove
Grandchild of mine, elder of the year 2321, I write you seeking to know you. What is your name? Do you recognize any connection with those of us of this year 2021?
I am most interested in finding out the really real of your being. My imaginings of you and your life and your agency in your world of necessity will land far afield of where you find yourself. How could they not? There will be 11 generations between us, and each will live lives full of meetings and bumpings into others, some friendly, some prickly, some who make life difficult. All will change the people who were your parents of many generations, and they will change what they leave to you.
And your technologies might mean that you are not physically constituted as I am, mainly organic. You likely think differently from me. So will my language even have any meaning to you, and what are the chances my meaning and yours align?
Yet I am used to that. I am a poet and believe that the poem I write does not carry all the meaning: the reader also brings a meaning to it; and the meeting of poet and readers brings forth something none of us brought in. Meetings are like that.
So my question for you circles around with questions like: What are your soul-searching questions and struggles? What are you striving for? What is the meaning of your life and of human life? What is your purpose? How ought people to treat one another, and other beings? What is the quality of being human? About what do you converse with others, in moments of reflection?
For you see, I want to learn of you. If we, you and I, can somehow converse, turn together, breathe together, at this remove, then perhaps there is something I can bring to my generation to leave you a better soil in which to grow.
Your ancestor,
:- Doug.
Footprints in the Windsm # 1999–Today I swallowed my imagination
Footprints in the Windsm # 1999
Today I swallowed my imagination
Took two capsules with a swig of water
I flew I dove I swam and went to places
You have never gone and never will
Small I crawled inside a chrysalis
Came out a butterfly upon a breeze
And large set multitudes to march and sing
Please pass it on.
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I hang back
I hang back, not quite ready to start, saying that will take a day to itself. And yet. . . .
:- Doug.
Walk more?
But if you are to have a livable world we’ll have to. . .give up our comfortable cars, walk more, take cloth bags to the grocery, do more with less, think how we might leave you a better humanity, think about you. . . .
Really?! Imagine us! Imagine us.
:- Doug.
What O what do you want me to hear?
What O what do you want me to hear
You who come to me from ages hence?
Do you even care if I hear?
Do you even find worth in our converse?
Who are we each to the other, if. . . ?
:- Doug.
others can partake
Humanicity is at once a larger and a smaller thing than humanity: smaller in that it is only the quality of the beast, larger in that other beings can partake.
:- Doug.
Yes, it may go awry
What can we set in motion? Yes, it may go awry, but that is no reason to not try.
:- Doug.
Missed our great responsibility?
If we don’t think ahead to 2321, will we have missed our great responsibility?
:- Doug.
If we could converse
If we could converse with the sages of the year 2321, how might we improve the humanity we generate for them?
:- Doug.
