The Path of No Path

(greed kills) When Reagan decided to feed the poor, what he meant was,  let’s feed the poor to the rich.  (greed kills) His Piss-on-the-Poor theory,  otherwise known as Tinkle-Down economics,  is just a fancy name for greed.  (greed kills) When those who have way to much, cry out keening, wailing, desperate for more; people die. (greed kills)

Still mind helps us to discover ourselves         What if we find only beauty inside? Allowing compassion to lead the way         Yields answers to questions not thought of yet Tossing a stone into the deep blue lake         Radical notions with each breath we take Change does not approach, nor does it vanish         In this moment, with each breath, I am change

Hiding the beauty, hatred divides us         Creating beauty, leads us out of fear To be gentle is to be powerful         Aggression is not the pathway to peace They tell us the dogs of war must be fed         This breed and their masters feed on our fear

We have chosen that hatred is okay,         because we are not happy with ourselves

William York Letters From the Earth Final Essay: Freedom 15 MArch, 2011 A Walk Between Worlds A great blue heron stands silently near the edge of a small lake. Partially concealed by a stand of pampas grass, she waits. It is not quite dawn, and the forest makes no sound. The sounds of last nights crickets and frogs have disappeared into the mist that hugs the shore of the lake. Gone too, is the screeching of owls, the night hunters, who glide silently overhead, patiently searching for that one mouse or vole that has been unwary, and is caught off guard.  Throughout the forest there is tension. Tension that comes from the coming change. Everything feels it. The time of the great sleep, the period profound and restorative rest, that great slumber called Winter, is nearly at an end. The silence, the crisp cold, the small patches of remaining snow, are but delicate appetizers, to the prelude, of the bountiful menu that is Spring. Change is indeed coming.  It is nearly the full moo...

Time to sit. Out the window Portland grows from partly sunny to mostly cloudy. Music that I like, but don't recognize plays through the coffee house speakers. Surrounded by other writers. Life is good. The hot chocolate, however, is a bit weak. Pine trees are pushed sideways and the flag pole quivers and bounces back and forth. The sky is shifting to ever darker shades of  gray. Today's sunny morning has turned into a more cold gray afternoon. Two women drink their coffee from large brown French-style cups that rattle nervously in their saucers, as the last few days events, and gossip are bantered about. The women are friends, but they sit far apart. Even a friendly touch between the two seems unpracticed and awkward. Animated and smiling, rich with gestures, she regales her friend; who looks downwards and scratches her head nervously. An odd conversational style, have these two. One leans in, to make point and the other leans away. Can a conversation be animated, yet st...

Collateral damage in the wake of a landslide Back wheels stick, bind, while front wheels stutter & twitch. Gnarled, arthritic hands tell a story punctuated by cracked nails and fresh bruises; she pushes her world in her own Safeway. Sweat from her matted hair slices its way down coarse & painful wrinkles. On my mega yacht, sipping the perfect Martini, stirred, never shaken. Bright sunlight refracts a single drop of water, slowly repelling down the crystal stem. Trickle down Reaganomics