Holy Smokes Sky

Not Night – Twelve Noon Today , Marin Side of Golden Gate Bridge

This is one of those days where frustration and anger block poetic inspiration, as the smoke from raging California wildfires blocks the sun today. I understand that in each person’s world, today may have snow, intense heat and drought, wretched poverty, wounds of racism, even total joy. I can only give expression to my own feelings.

Sky is dark as night,
Not a storm but smoke and ash,
Like apocalypse.

When will this be past?
Covid, fires and Cruel Dunce,
Making us afraid.

How can some deny,
Climate-change is harming us,
Extremes ev’rywhere.

What brings denial,
Of the Holocaust and moon,
Who can think such things?

I have not breathed yet,
Given thanks or let rage go,
Such extremes in me.

And the cycles move,
Through the seasons, hot and cold,
Ever it is so.

Be here now so true,
In this moment there is life,
Blessings in this day.

Some have lost their homes,
Some have lost their lives today,
From whatever cause.

Still a baby’s born,
Somewhere to bring hope and life,
To a wounded world.

Not a special child,
But each spirit a grand gift,
Saying spring will come.

Fires will then be gone,
And, we hope, new thoughts, new cures,
There is only faith.

Keep the sky alive,
In your mem’ries of clear blue,
Sun bright over all.

Keep the love alive,
For each person in the world,
We are all we have.

Give your thanks this day,
For your life, for breath, for hope,
Come back to this now.

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