Blue Skies and Storms

From time to time some of my international readers will simply be aghast at how dysfunctional and seemingly insane our politics are here in the U.S. I’ve thought about this a lot, and I have a few things that may help with understanding us Americans.

First it not simply a matter of two sides fighting, both equally valid. NOT AT ALL. When the extreme right seems so different than the way people used to be, it’s because there is a real cultural difference now. It is real and scary!

I’m not sure how long news shows from the conservative news machine have been creating a different spin, but they do and they create a cultural bubble. Please understand that misinformation and disinformation are not only normal for them, but it’s what their viewers want to hear. This improves the ratings and makes the company money!

This bubble actually creates walls between us. Many conspiracies are floated into the airwaves all to make people afraid, and angry. And the bubble walls become increasing thick and isolating. Did you know that lies are told for political reasons? M.T. Green admitted it to a Parkland mother, years after the infamous shooting of children at the school, and M.T. Green’s bizarre comments about it back then.

Yet that’s another story. Do progressive people have a bubble? Not really, but if they do it’s more like a dome, much larger and more inclusive than a small bubble. There are a lot more women involved and more people of color, black, brown, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, immigrants and many others. And the dome is growing more all the time, instead of reinforcing fears and non-acceptance. The doors are open instead of closed.

Another way of thinking about it, is that the U.S. is like a large beautiful blue sky. Sometimes there are thunderstorms. They make a lot of noise, seem angry and can be dangerous sometimes (like the Capitol riot). Yet the blue sky always returns…. always pushing away….the storms.

Peace.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: I’ll be a break for a few days.

Thank you for reading!

The Survivors IV – Guns and Sex

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 years from now.

In the foothills before the mountains, the earthen lodge wasn’t even visible. Even the cooking fire could be mistaken for mist from the stream, flowing into the river. In the lodge baby Jay was sleeping.

“Ok, the shotgun is ready!” Why was he yelling? All he had done was cleaned it, now wiping it down with an oily rag. What was it about men and guns? Ridiculous. He didn’t realize it, but Brie was thinking the same thing.

They sat outside, across from each other in the morning sun, today was weapons cleaning and inventory day. He reached for a .38 caliber revolver to clean it, the kind the police used in the old days. He loved the way the chamber spun.

“Grey…” She had taken to shortening his new name and he loved that…. especially when she said it softly, like now. He looked up, putting down the .38. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Uh oh, he thought. This sounded serious. He nodded and she asked, “Why haven’t you made a move on me?”

He looked perplexed, “Made a what??” “Made a move on me….you know….S.E.X.” Did she really need to spell it out? It got worse because she continued with, “When you first saw me, isn’t that what you thought about?”

He looked at her silently, which for her was excruciating. She waited.

“No, not at all”, he said flatly.

“What then?” she asked. He shifted and recrossed his legs. “I was thinking, thank God for a human being that was alive and well!” Tears welled up in his eyes. “And I was thinking, thank God there is someone I can talk to and not go insane. It took me 4 months to get out to this wilderness and I hadn’t seen anyone!”

Ok note to self she thought, this guy has a heart, not like the slime bags she had known. A few tears did make it down his cheeks, but he wiped them away quickly.

That night was the first night they slept next to each other. Nothing happened, but they both felt a need….just to be close.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Survivors II – Bluejay

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 years from now

Wolves howling in the middle of the night could be heard through the thick walls of earth, wood and more earth. The smell of lavender smoke permeated the air of the lodge now, attempting to overtake the odors of blood and sweat. He never knew a woman could sweat like that.

It had been a horrible night of pain, and yet baby Jay was here now, Bluejay was her full name. “That’s beautiful…” he whispered, when Brie had told him. He had never seen Brie with a more contented, peaceful look on her face holding her daughter, wrapped up and warm. Brie was a tough woman, but he liked this softer side of her.

He had been right there through it all, and was beginning to clean up. She protested, “I’m so sorry….I’m too weak to…. He told her to rest. “I got this.” And he meant it. She took hold of his arm saying, “You did good tonight, thank you….” He simply nodded.

In the morning he went out to dedicate the afterbirth as instructed. It was Brie’s tradition, a tradition of her people, to thank the earth. He walked outside noticing the dew in the air. Picking a strong looking aspen tree, he mumbled what he thought may have been a prayer he heard once, a long time ago.

He stopped. What was a prayer anyway? Something was in his heart, so he just poured that out instead, silently. At the end he crossed himself, it was all he knew really.

The wind took hold of his hair, and a sense of peace enveloped him. He thought the hills seemed more alive today. Did he dare allow himself to feel joy? He took a deep breath and let go. Brie was right…..everything would be healed eventually, and the animals would return.

Suddenly, a smile of conformation began to spread over his face, when he saw a herd of elk not far away….

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is a special Thursday post due to your requests! So cool.

Heart Broken

This is not poetry. This is not fiction.

When people have cancer they often build a small community with friends, who are often going through the same. Even if the cancer is different they share stories, bonding in special ways.

My wife and I are heart broken today after just receiving news our neighbor has passed away. She died late last night. We’ve known them for a long time and my wife and C. were good friends. They often talked, and during the pandemic talked to each other from across the street.

Years ago they even watched our children several times when my wife was rushed to the hospital regarding complications from her cancer. My wife almost died, was in ICU, her kidneys were shutting down. She had several heart attacks etc.C.’s family went through this with us.

C. was only in her 40’s, and was a woman of faith, a wife and mother. I think the youngest child is only 7 years old. How do you explain dying to a young child?

C. had been struggling for the past few weeks. Knowing what could happen doesn’t make it any easier though.

I ask that you send prayers their way. That God would comfort them. Yes, positive thoughts are welcomed too.

I’m really grieving today, and will be off line for a day or so. Eventually I will answer your messages.

Peace.

P.S. People who fight cancer are the bravest people on the face of the earth. They are more than survivors. They are warriors, the finest and bravest God has ever made.

Writing Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Wildness

There was a certain wildness in her hair, yet she really loved the gentleness of his strength. They met that first day on the same trail from the opposite directions, with diverging angles. He noticed her boots, they were much better than his, and she noticed the brightness of his smile. He said as they got closer, “No masks!”.

She chuckled and they talked for a while, sitting on some logs. They talked some more, and then some more, and they did what many young lovers do, even on their first date…..

they had lunch.

Crackers and cheese, with apples, and bottled water. They did finish that trail, and many more after that, yet together. The last I heard she still does not have control of her hair…..and to be honest…..that’s just fine with him.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Amazed by Our Journey

No I’m no mystic, just a writer seeking more than mist, the tossing and shaping of words, by channels of the sea

I walk, and I am alone again….. seeking and perhaps that’s the danger of wordsmithing,

forever a quest, will we allow the heart to be open enough, risking?

Or do we cloud walk only long enough to use the heart?

I think of it more now, maybe as enjoying our gift

flowing, then becoming amazed

by our journey,

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2021, rivers renewed

Soaring Above the Tallest Trees

When our prayers fall short failing to reach the eagle’s wings, or of reaching our highest mountains,

our visions seem lost but not forgotten. But a stronger heart has learned surrender

each river washing our eyes, clearing our hearts as our spirits begin to see,

and soar above the tallest trees. Knowing, recognizing

all is not lost.

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017 2021, rivers renewed