BIRTHRIGHT
By
Millicent Ward Whitt
Who has the gift of mountains
To live with day by day
Has found an endless treasure
That cannot fade away.
And should he travel later
To where the prairies lie,
Still that imprinted pattern
Reflects against the sky.
As eyes that turn from gazing
Into a blazing light
Still see its splendor shining
Upon the aftersight,
So those with mountain dazzled eyes
Shall nevermore see empty skies.
From “Say to the Moment”
Poems by Millicent Ward Whitt 1996
What need have I of trinkets and baubles, glory or fame? I seek the elusive knowledge of who I am. If I succeed I do not need false and vain possessions. If I fail they will not help me.
Nature abhors
vacuums,
lies,
indecision.
Nature prefers
the persistence
of truth,
Sweet Truth.
I, too,
prefer
honesty,
to know
the process
to grow,
Sweet Growth.
What long
gains
you think
exist
without the word
‘persist’
Sweet Persistence?
Earth bears witness to Buddha
Buddha bears witness to Dharma
Dharma bears witness to Sangha
Of all sentient beings
Awakening
Bearing witness
Sleeping
Awakening
Sleeping
Awakening
To Earth
Over and over and over
Sentient beings
Sleeping
Awakening
Eye ear nose tongue body mind
To the subtle/siren alarm
Of Earth
Awakening
Sight sound smell taste touch and consciousness
With each breath
Witnessing
Earth
Suffering
I wanted to put something here this week before the inauguration of the 45th President of the United States changes the world in so many unimaginable, unbelievable, unsavory ways. I wanted to express how embarrassed and ashamed I am that my country allowed this to happen, and how determined most citizens are to unite in opposition, prevail against and overcome the man who is neither my president nor representative of my values. My old friend Lito Tejada Flores recently composed two poems that speak for the best and, since Hillary Clinton won the democratic vote, majority of Americans. Thanks, Lito.
(Un)happy HolidaysNo one’s ready, no one’s eager,In fact, we’re all a little afraid.It’s happened before, that’s the problem,A would-be strongman, & crazy promises,& crowds of believers, blind believers.Christmas cards at the post office,Every day, same as always—But it isn’t the same, is it?Merry Christmas? Maybe, why not?But we can’t say: Happy New YearWith a straight face. We shake our headsIn disbelief, knowing it’s true.It isn’t *Kristallnacht* either, not yet,But it isn’t over. It’s up to us . . .
Walls
Man is
The great wall builder
The Berlin Wall
The Wailing Wall of Jerusalem
But the wall
most impregnable
Has a moat
Flowing with fright
Around his heart
A wall without windows
For the spirit to breeze through
A wall
without a door
for love to walk in.
Oswald Mtshali
Soweto poet
This is a most appropriate poem to read, ponder, and take to heart (sic) at the beginning of each day. What better and well intentioned way could there be to start the day than swimming or building a bridge across the moat of fear, installing windows for the spirit and building a door for love in one’s own heart? Mtshali is a 75 year old South African poet who grew up and survived with spirit and heart on the black side of the Apartheid wall. He knows some things about impregnable walls that most people reading this have the good fortune to never experience. Lucky us.
Still, structures like the Berlin Wall, the Great Wall of China and other monolithic structures are only the most visible and acknowledged impregnable walls separating the fearful from the feared, the haves from the have nots. There are many kinds of walls built by the innumerable fears of man that keep the spirit of freedom from breezing through and love, and thereby understanding, from walking in. Who in their right mind wants to live with a moat flowing with fright around his or her heart? Who are they who want to build another wall of fear to keep ‘the other’ out, to keep separate ‘us’ and ‘them,’ an impregnable wall lacking spirit, heart and love?
Unfortunately, ‘they’ are many more in number than many others, including me, can comprehend. We all know people who fearfully live behind impregnable walls surrounding the mind, heart and spirit and, sometimes, the physical body in a self-made penitentiary, though they are definitely not penitents. And there is this—every human has some walls built to guard against some real or imaginary fear, not all of them impregnable. Likely the highest profile wall builder in America today is presidential candidate Don ‘The Trumpster’ Trump, who said, “I will build a great wall—and nobody builds walls better than me, believe me‑‑and I’ll build them very inexpensively. I will build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I will make Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words.”
Yes, mark them, and remember the words of Oswald Mtshali.
Personally, I like the observation of Isaac Newton, who had lots more hair, intelligence and compassion than The Don: “We build too many walls and not enough bridges.”
Let each of us build some bridges and tear down some walls this year.
Walls
Man is
The great wall builder
The Berlin Wall
The Wailing Wall of Jerusalem
But the wall
most impregnable
Has a moat
Flowing with fright
Around his heart
A wall without windows
For the spirit to breeze through
A wall
without a door
for love to walk in.
Oswald Mtshali
Soweto poet
This is a most appropriate poem to read, ponder, and take to heart (sic) each day. What better and well-intentioned way could there be to start a day than swimming or building a bridge across the moat of fear, installing windows for the spirit and building a door for love in one’s own heart? Mtshali is a South African poet born in 1940 who grew up and survived with spirit and heart on the black side of the Apartheid wall. He knows some things about impregnable walls that most people reading this have the good fortune to never experience. Lucky us.
Still, structures like the Berlin Wall, the Great Wall of China and other monolithic structures are only the most visible and acknowledged impregnable walls separating the fearful from the feared, the haves from the have nots. There are many kinds of walls built by the innumerable fears of man that keep the spirit of freedom from breezing through and love, and thereby understanding, from walking in. Who in their right mind wants to live with a moat flowing with fright around his or her heart? Who are they who want to build another wall of fear to keep ‘the other’ out, to keep separate ‘us’ and ‘them,’ an impregnable wall lacking spirit, heart and love?
Unfortunately, ‘they’ are many more in number than many others, including me, can comprehend. We all know people who fearfully live behind impregnable walls surrounding the mind, heart and spirit and, sometimes, the physical body in a self-made penitentiary, though they are definitely not penitents. And there is this: every human has some walls built to guard against some real or imaginary fear, not all of them impregnable. Likely the highest profile wall builder in America today is presidential candidate Don ‘The Trumpster’ Trump, who said, “I will build a great wall and nobody builds walls better than me, believe me and I’ll build them very inexpensively. I will build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I will make Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words.”
Yes, mark them, and remember the words of Oswald Mtshali.
Personally, I like the observation of Isaac Newton, who had lots more hair, intelligence and compassion than The Don: “We build too many walls and not enough bridges.”
Let each of us build some bridges and tear down some walls every day.
When I become a man
I will fly
like a bird
to the sun.
I will bring back
the
warm, rich, eternal
light
to
my brothers and sisters.
With the light
I will bathe their pain,
cleanse their wounds,
heal their cries.
With the light
I will open their eyes
and hearts,
when I become a man.
To all those for whom honesty is commodity
instead of standard
To all those who see integrity in the dictionary
instead of within
To all those whose hearts are in the way
instead of lighting the way
To all those who turn from love
instead of loving
To all those who see adversary
instead of mirror
To all those who wound for the greater good
instead of healing the self
To all those for whom Earth is resource
instead of Mother
To all those who traffic or carry weapons to live
instead of almost anything
To all those in shadow who will not speak
instead of speaking loud and clear
To all those who proclaim greed a virtue
instead of sickness
To all those for whom mercy is political
instead of organic
To all those who give into hatred
instead of hating giving in
To all those whose words confuse
instead of illuminate
To all those who salute authority
instead of embracing brotherhood
To all those who turn their back
instead of the other cheek
To all those who play poker
instead of playing straight
To all those who cannot smell what stinks
instead of cleaning up
To all those for whom cruelty is utility
instead of unacceptable
To all those who keep score
instead of keeping care
To all those who teach with gift and punishment
instead of by example
To all those who learn by acceptance
instead of question and examination
To all those for whom intuition is superstition
instead of guide to reason
To all those for whom respect is attachment
instead of innate
To all those who price the priceless
instead of knowing it
To all those
life must answer
No!
At the age of 52
she dropped the other shoe
on the floor
of old and broken dreams.
She stood awhile
in a barefoot smile
and then walked by
the brightest stream.