311.365 - how the mind works, perhaps

moonlight flowed over the corpses
over the rifles
the unexploded grenade
just like it did over the stones
near the surface of the ground
the tufts of grass
the low scrub brush
the moonlight felt no pity
no hostility
no mourning
and no blame
it felt nothing
it simply did what light must do
it is we
who if we see at all
make distinctions
judgments
and feel whatever feelings we do
we are not governed by laws of physics only
we feel or not and act or not
and so
those soldiers who came upon the scene
did nothing to disturb it
they separated
and swept around the little clearing
we can say alert
ready to fire
but what we saw is
they separated
swept around the clearing
and out of sight
we conclude they never saw us
we live

310.365 - credo

what then do I believe?
there are planets
and I have seen most of them
up close
as robot explorers slid by
there are moons
and we have math that lets us plot
where the planets and moons will be
there are electrons
and other tiny particles we can't see
but have the math to tell
how they'll behave
probably
and there are people
but we have no math to predict
how they'll behave
those few of us who read history
think we can predict
but people fool us
some are magnanimous
some generous
most of us think kindly
sort of
but act to protect ourselves
maybe our families
and some of us are grim
sadistic
horrible
we would not need those words
except for those of us who earn them

once in a village so small
that you and I do not know its name
only that it was near a border
between two countries the villagers had hardly heard of
and had little contact with
once in that village
lived a family so poor
that when the father got sick
the neighbors feared the family would die
so every neighbor gave what they could spare
including time to cook their gifts and feed the man
including time to draw the baths and wash the children
and tell them stories
once in that village
the man began to heal
had almost reached the health
with which he could get out of bed
when soldiers came
it hardly matters from where
they didn't expect a village
so knew it was illegal
they killed the men and boys
stole food and anything else they fancied
including the women and the girls
then burned the village away

later in that war
most of those soldiers received medals
for gallantry in other circumstances
two of them became officers
and one of those was elected mayor
of his home town

the universe sped on
yes, sped
most of it moves at enormous speeds away from us
there may be meaning in that
but probably not

309.365 - what we found

the old man said
"you boys
this is the ninth day in a row
my meditations have been interrupted
by curious tourists
it's time to move
deeper into the mountains
higher"
"perhaps," I said
easily guilted and meaning to help
"you should find a less sightful place
one where people wouldn't climb to
just to see"
he looked at me
studied me and grinned
he stood and bowed
hands in namaste
"such wisdom," he admired
"anywhere I go," he nodded
"the world has something to show
the longer it takes me to see that something
surely the greater reward for seeing"
he winced and shook his head
"listen to me," he said
then frowned and shook his head
"no, do not, but nine days of talking to people
and I am looking for greater rewards
I wonder
is any seeing greater than another?"
he shook his head again and stood
looked perplexed for a moment
then jumped down off his rock
looked around and picked up a backpack
not so much unlike our own
then waved and walked into the brush
"should we follow him?" Robert worried
Ned shook his head
"whatever he experiences
that's what he experiences
if he wanted a gang of disciples
he would collect them"
not knowing what else to do
we sat down around the rock
staring out at whatever there was to see
we had not been there long
when a family interrupted
the little girl squatted and studied me
"are you real?" she asked
"too much so," I grinned
but her mother called her away
her older brother stepped nearer then
"what does that mean?" he asked
"that I'm still stuck with meaning"
I grinned and shook my head
he cocked his and asked, "do you make sense?"
"too much," I answered
"oh, you're one of those," he said, disgusted
his father called him back to the family
the parents' looks accused us
they led their kids away
offended at the likes of us
in their world
we didn't know what to make of our encounters
til Walt reminded us we didn't want to make anything of them
so we climbed toward the mountain peak
until the wind reminded us we had no jackets
we started back down to the car
chagrinned

308.365 - my friend says I complain too much of lies

what if truth came to visit
surely it would not stay
among a people such as we
so entangled in our lies
but suppose it came to visit
pat little children on the head
solemnly greet teenagers
who would resent yet another adult
telling them how they ought live
suppose it sat and visited
among our men and women
and we tried to tell it stories
but faltered not knowing how
to tell what really happened
what we really said
or what we expected
suppose, just suppose
it stirred its coffee
spoke gently of some foreign land
where it lives comfortably in exile
waiting the day when it can come and stay
but when we jump in to tell it
how much we look forward to that day
the chair empties
the cup falls to the floor and shatters
the coffee spreads out on the floor

307.365 - apparition

he held his pants up with a drawstring
he stared at me as mystified as I at him
"who are you?" he demanded, "how are you
partly here in these ruins where the river
runs blood, partly somewhere else
I can almost see behind you
some place like the fairyland the old ones tell
come!  step fully into my world
dare its winds, its thirsts, its dirt
perpetually blowing.  tell me the wonders
of your world, or better yet, show me the path
into your world
                  "I..." I stammered "I...
I thought you were a dream, a ghost
a figment of some war past, or some war now
I expected the echo of guns, planes dropping bombs
something to explain the devastation of your city
how strangely it reminds me of mine"
"don't be silly," the apparition said, "we fight no wars
not because we do not want them but because
we have no energy to spare on wars
the old ones tell of engines, fuel, water
and yes, of guns and bombs, and make them sound
both dreadful and enchanting, but we have none
we chase the green as it retreats
and those of us us who catch enough of it
live to chase another day; your world
the glimpses I see of it, has green to spare
to waste; I think perhaps yours is the old ones' world
and you one of the wastrels who would do nothing to save it
to protect it, to pass it on; if so, be damned
this is the world you left and we your inheritors"
he faded as I suppose I did
the alarm went off and unlike most mornings I rose
glad to leave my dream

306.365 - poetry

I wait
pretending to be a cove in a coastline
that poetry will fill as the tide rises
sometimes
the waves flow in softly, climb the sand
and flow back out again, barely disturbing sand
sometimes
the waves rush in and splash around the rocks
carrying away whatever traces humans have left
sometimes
the waves race in and smash against the cliff
climb halfway up its face, fall back as mist
I don't care
so long as poetry comes in and fills my heart and lungs
and flows back out my fingertips
let's change
the metaphor, poetry is a love affair
with a woman who is sometimes there

305.365 - helicopters

where could a village go?
how could it hide?
the helicopters
rose over the ridge
raised dust coming up one road
and down another
came across the jungle and the river
made a five pointed star
centered on the village
blasted the houses into flames
no one ran from
machine gunned anyone who ran
then dropped ladders
down which armed men climbed
to finish off anyone they found alive
so the three children say
who managed to escape
what was the village's crime?
independence perhaps?
failure to have a master
among the wealthy?
failure to pay taxes
to a government they never heard from
until that day?
the villagers do not say
none of the corpses talks to any one
perhaps they do not appreciate
their only chance to tell their story