Standing rigid
in the sparkling river
he grips his cup downside up.

Drying from thirst
he gathers his resolve
and curses cups.

Right it, please, I urge him,
but the message flows off the rim
into to the sparkling river.

The songs we sing crawling
are not our walking songs,
which are not our swimming songs,
which are not our flying songs.

Crawling songs will stand up,
the walking songs will dive in,
and swimming songs will take wing
and sing
the songs of being
and the joy of crawling
until walking
until swimming
until flying,

and sing
the love that flies
at eye level
to any crawler, walker, swimmer, flier,
and that dances to all the songs
while imparting the faith in becoming.

We are a vine
seeking water by root
and light by leaf.

We climb
what is
to become what shall be.

We hunt
the spin authentic
for stable fruiting.

We recognize
and learn to internalize
beauty

To verify love
and learn to share it
unreservedly.

We are systems
embedded
in holons of holiness

Awaking
at the speed of life
to our creative virtue.

(for the wedding of my firstborn)

A blank book begins on a pedestal.
Knock it off.
Spill some ink
deliberately.
Life is gloriously messy,
let it know that you are
participating!
Let it know that you have both shown up
and that your team
will make its mark
immediately.

You may not always write big and bold –
but do so now!
Claim this joint territory with
some reckless abandon
while you may,
so that your children will honor you,
and learn that real authority derives from truth,
and never vice versa.

Tagged: change, dialog, fear, growth, hope, identity, learning, life, love, paths, poem, sharing, transformation, Two Pens - One Book, Wayne Turner, words ]]> http://transdialectic.wordpress.com/2009/07/24/two-pens-one-book/feed/ 16 Wayne http://transdialectic.wordpress.com/2009/07/12/nothing-and-no-one/ http://transdialectic.wordpress.com/2009/07/12/nothing-and-no-one/#comments Sun, 12 Jul 2009 15:19:19 +0000 Wayne http://transdialectic.wordpress.com/?p=422 ]]>

Nothing
and
No One
is lost

But some are disconnected
like corpses
encased
where the roots of flowers

cannot

penetrate.

Final word
Final word
Final word
:
Orthodox aberrations of arrivals,
the dance of the lame by choice,
stanky stationary vision!

Oh! The things we should seek and prove together!!

To walk on land together
To walk on water together
To walk on air together

The increasing responsibility
a delight to the spirit
ever leaning forward
from firm ground
eyes all around.

Be brave!
Things are never as they say.

No final word
No final word
Be brave!
Be honest!

I recently responded to one of Paul’s offerings with comments about the need for something beyond capitalism as we know it. I think this article says it better. Paul, see how you toss a pebble in the pond and the effects continue forever. Thanks. I am ever more convinced that there is no viable alternative for humanity other than a sea change transformation from the inside out.

Reinventing Capitalism: Putting Soul in the Machine
A Quick Re-Vision of Western Civilization
by Howard Bloom

The early part of the twenty-first century gave the Western world one skull-cracking slap after another. The downing of New York’s World Trade Center; the battle with militant Islam’s holy warrior; the crash and scandal of major corporations like Enron, Worldcom, and Arthur Andersen; and the growth of China to superpower status—these were wakeup punches. They handed us what may be our greatest opportunity and our greatest responsibility since the Great Depression and the Nazis threatened to topple the Western way of life in the 1930s.

Osama bin Laden’s threats against America and against the “false religion” of freedom of speech, secularism, spiritual eclecticism, human rights, women’s rights, and gay rights have the potential to nuke us into a new dark age. As you read this page, over ten thousand Wahhabi madrassas, “suicide bomber factories,” salted on every one of this planet’s continents, are teaching children to make holy war against you and me. The West, these kids are told, has nothing left to give the world but immorality and decay. The teachers in these madrassas peddle passion brilliantly. They feed the hunger for meaning with the junk food of emotion—violence and righteous fury. But could the madrassa teachers be right? Do we in the Western system have nothing worth struggling for? Do we have nothing that’s worthy of idealism and belief?

Please read the rest here…

Reprinted here with permission from EnlightenNext magazine,
Issue 28, March-May 2005
(c) 2005 EnlightenNext, Inc. All rights reserved. www.enlightennext.org

Your thoughts?

Dit randid joyk
Gun farce afeet
Ban kneedy leg
Na armapeet

Ma stoma cake
Fra tearin lake
An gona furter
Tudor gate

Wha toil doon
Gan total groun
Den jimy gup
Flight flow te cup
Indig
Flight flow te cup

Sliante !!

(report all spelling problems to spelling department)

Love patterns matter.
It must be ever moreso,
that men empower women,
and women empower men,
lest our end be tragic blathering
in far corners of our skin.

Her learning curves inform him.
His pursuit protects her.
Her cooperation rests him.
His competition guards her.
She speaks the Way of cycles.
He learns the Tao of smalltalk.

Matter is Patterned by this Love,
And it must become yet moreso.

The precious, churning black edge
where the light comes from,
where rubber and road negotiate the future,
where you’re all out of cheeks and extra miles,
yet floating forward along your thread,
your thread that is your story of becoming,
your story of letting go, your revelations,
your story of seeing beyond the edge,
your journey past the monsters.