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- IMHO …… - October 6, 2025
- Bring Me Your Tired, Your Poor - September 25, 2025
In the middle of a week filled with deep and heavy darkness, a friend gifted me with Light … the link to a most remarkable website, which had been totally unknown to me. How did I not know of its beautiful existence? No matter. Because of this dear Being’s thoughtfulness, I do now. And I’m passing the gift on to you. https://humansandnature.org/humans-and-nature-press-digital/
So of course, after looking at the site’s amazing images, I went straight for the poems. And there began a meandering trail of good trouble and joyful noise. Not the day I had planned, but what a day it became! I know your day is busy and filled with important tasks, but I hope you will take the time to meander with me for just a little while. Who knows what might come of it?
We are in the midst of a week overflowing with shock and awe … everything from “natural” disasters to Fascist Theatrics the likes of which we’ve not seen before. Speaking for myself, the time has come to take a breath. I invite you to join me.
Let’s start here. Remember the quote in my last post about music and sustaining our breath? Let’s remember MUSIC (said Michael Moore) Take a breath. The rest of the chorus will sing. The rest of the band will play. Rejoin so others can also take a breath. Together, we can sustain a very long, beautiful song for a very, very long time. You don’t have to do it all, but you must add your voice to the song.
Ahh yes … You don’t have to do it all. Coincidence? Synchronicity? Hmmnn. Suddenly … out of the blue, Yusuf/Cat Stevens, and “Morning Has Broken” (hadn’t thought about him in a long time) with its praise for the singing … what a lovely way to start the day.
Did you happen to notice the video’s little ‘grandpa’ figure? I can’t help but wonder if that’s who Gavin Van Horn was channeling when he wrote this poem.
Sing ’Til It’s True
By Gavin Van HornI’ve got peace like a river in my soul.
–African American spiritual, arr. by William J. Reynolds
“The thing about singing,” said grandpa,
“is you have to keep singing for it to come true.”
So a small group gathers
beating steady rhythm
calls the salmon home.
And a mother, through tears,
rocks her baby, letting her know,
she’ll buy her a diamond ring.
And the ghost of Woody Guthrie,
a sharp twang that bounces
down the canyon, keeps repeating:
“This land is your land.
This land is my land.”
We wake, turn on the smokebox,
wires to our ears like thin tapeworms.
Keep singing
At the coffin, at the pine-grove,
in the still small silences of night.
Keep singing
To remind yourself:
there didn’t have to be music in the world.
There coulda been blood and bruises
With no tourniquet, no balm.
There coulda been a pit
with no ladder
An ocean without dry land,
a storm without shelter.
There coulda been.
There’s no certainty
of benevolence. But
there’s music.
And you can sing
alone, in pairs,
or with the storm itself.
“The thing about singing,” said grandpa,
“is you have to keep singing for it to come true.”
Keep singing to remind yourself that there didn’t have to be music in the world … And that’s when I decided that this post, the only one I plan to offer in July, was going to focus on letting in the Light …
I often say, and will continue to say, that without action, Hope is just another four-letter word; but I have come to believe that Hope is best fueled by a three-letter word. Joy! And that unless we are experiencing Joy in our actions, those actions will, inevitably, become obligatory drudgery born of guilt … that nasty, nagging guilt that we are not doing enough. Never doing enough. Never. Ever. So Exhausting!
Please don’t misunderstand. If we’re not outraged, we’re not paying attention. I get that. But rightful Outrage is not the same as perpetual Anger. How about this for a radical idea? Joy is an Act of Resistance! For your consideration … some food for thought from Ingrid Fetell Lee. Granted, her blog was written in 2019, well before we knew how dark it was going to get, but I hope you won’t make the mistake of dismissing it as untimely. As always, what you do with the information is up to you.
And how about this …a radical idea from way back in the day? Here’s Margaret “Ma” Collier.
On a completely different note: This month, July 2025, marks the third anniversary of this aging rascal & occasional writer offering what I like to think of as Light Waves of artful reflection on today’s world … encouraging readers to take a look at what’s going on around us through my ‘kaleidoscope lens’ of poetry, music, art, activism, and (yes) humor. A Joyous Endeavor indeed! It has definitely been my joy, as well as my privilege, to share my thoughts and suggestions with occasional readers as well as a growing number of subscribers who choose to receive my posts via email before they go up on the big board. I love it that we’re drawing the circle wider and I hope we can continue for a long time . So … with gratitude and in celebration of this Three-Year Anniversary, my publisher, Lingua Ink, is offering all four of my books during the month of July for the celebratory price of $3 each plus $5 shipping (limit one).
Arms Filled With Bittersweet, a memoir in poetry and prose, remains my best seller. It tells the story of a somewhat rugged, post-WWII rural New England childhood in a second-generation farm family, and the life that followed. Today, one of the many Substack writers I follow, is Jess Piper, who writes as The View From Rural Missouri. She left her high school teaching career of 16 years to run for office as a Democrat in a deep red rural district and the rest is history. One of the things I love most about Jess is her vulnerability. Her post on July 5 titled “Song of My People” is a beautiful example; one I encourage you to read, especially if you’ve been thinking about your grandparents and where they came from.
Then there’s this lovely story from The New Republic about that guy, young enough to be my grandson, who I hope will become NYC’s next Mayor. I didn’t have to look far to find what I had most in common with this bold young man. It was food … and the way it brings people together. All In The Soup Together … Four Seasons of Recipes & Reflections, is for cooks and food lovers who appreciate poetry and soup on the same menu. Seasonal soup recipes from around the world are accompanied by ‘little stories’ and a poem and photo for each season. The opening page bears these words: “I’ve heard it said that people all over the world are made the same. Only the soups are different. I like to believe this is true”. If you’re a “cold soup” fan, here’s a link to my all-time summer favorite, “Avocado Cucumber Soup With Buttermilk”. EnJOY!!
All right, then. How about one final step? Wrapped in music, poetry, and comfort food … let’s take one more breath together and remember who we are and why we are here. Could it be that we are the ones we’ve been waiting for?
Until Next Time … I wish us all Fierce Love, Unrelenting Hope, & Much Light, Sulima