Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Ship of Fools, a broadside


Landscape irrevocably altered,
Old alliances have faltered;
The looming question each dawn:
“Whose side are you on?”
This winter of austerity
Can only bring prosperity
To the soft white belly
Of the fool on Hill and telly,
Whose sychophant minority consents
To sunset equalities and stir discontents,
Flattening any fanfare for the common man
By rendering opportunity null and ban.
Our constitution, so long ago knit,
Has been unraveled by the unfit,
And these very forces
Plan to upend our courses,
To suck all wind from each sail
Of the leaky boat we citizens bail.
Our anchor has thus been weighed:
Endless calumnies have put paid
To what ruthless and rudderless
Barbary captains do, regardless,
For they reign with impunity
—Our fool grants them immunity.
Time will record, but will it care
That the lawless bent the law bare,
Wreaking lives and ravaging land,
Draining toxic sludge into pristine sand?
With compass and mainsail set athwart,
A new Revolution is our last, best resort.

© 2017 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Waking beneath swirling stars

Waking beneath swirling stars
into this kaleidoscopic array,
where colors, light and shadows play
through loud or unexpectedly quiet hours,
grateful for: fruit of the vine,
waiting to be crafted into wine;
all the prayerful, fragrant flowers
snug ‘neath warm and sunny ray;
the themes with variations
of being and doing, each day
a new start at the foundations;
the play of You at my horizon,
which is really the Play of Us,
hum-sung to grow and wisen
all toward easiness within, without fuss;
the freedom to know and accept love;
the curiosity to seek and explore,
both below the surface and above,
what can be known of music and rhythms,
in their proper expansions and contractions,
mind and heart exercising all possible lyricisms
beyond the care of doubting reactions;
borrowed place and renewing rest;
for the weight of others’ cares;
for communal work and quest;
for those willing hands, hearts, arms and chairs
offered in my own hours of need;
and more,
            and more,
                        and, oh, so much more;
take this as a pledge to sow and seed and cede
beauties where most appropriate, never forsaking.


© 2017 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen