Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands,
And walk among long dangled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
William Butler Yeats
From: The Song of the Wandering Angus
Month of Two New Moons
This month
in the midst of winter,
first day brings first
of two new moons, splinters
light into fractional shine,
barest glints
of moonglow can't blind
to starlight that fills
sky and mind
as I gaze until
I know at last
I am stardust billed
as first among castes,
but one instead with all that lasts.
January, 2014
What is my verse? We are one. We are the environment and care for it is care for ourselves. We are the world and care for one another is care for ourselves. We will languish or thrive together.
We have food enough now to feed us all if we devise the way. We have the knowledge to provide safe water for us all. We have wealth enough for all if we craft a more equitable system. We have resources and creativity enough to house everyone.
And my verse sings of women and elders coming forward at last to dream the visions for this kind of world, to take the leadership to build this kind of world, to notice and celebrate each step toward it.
Written in response to the question, what is your verse?, posed by Robin Williams in The Dead Poets Society and posted by Brian in dVerse Poets Pub on January 20 for our inspiration. I've sat with it since and formulated my response while on my yearly birthday retreat up the hill from my daughter's home in the rain forest of Trinidad. Surrounded by nature I was reminded of my place in the scheme of things.
