In the end, there will be only three days. Three hundred sixty-two days will have come, gone leaving forgotten memories from the folklore of the forlorn. The calendar has wound down to that. The next page starts a new year. The new year greeting us is 2020 which is a number that denotes perfect vision. Each year we ask what will the New Year bring? Will it be a good sweet year or a year filled with sorrow and woe for reasons we are not privy to. Is it possible the year will start out one way and suddenly without a hint or warning dire or not it, our lives spinning on the Earth’s axis will change perhaps never to be normal again? Some for the better while for some others for the worst. “ I listen to the wind. The wind of our soul. Where I’ll end up, well, I think only G-d really know.”-The Wind-Cat Stevens.
Who will live and who will die? Will there be more war or shall peace prevail? Are we better to the giving in or the acceptance of such or giving in to digging our heals into the sand to fight for less hunger, a cure for more diseases or man coming together with man to reunite the world to move to better places on higher plains? We must put goodness into our souls by inhaling them into our lungs with steep dedicated breaths. A new year that brings a new chance to get it right. For the sake of there being a world in the future, we must start now. Tears of sincerity coupled with smiles of kindness will be the foundation for the catalyst of change.
Flipping the pages backward we see the days, the weeks, the months that disappeared seemingly in seconds. There was more than perhaps we could have done but did not. Love that was left unclaimed from never having been sent by words or meetings of eyes where love was shown but never noticed. Certainly, there must have been time and space for love. We build our fortunes via bonds, worthless precious metals but there was no time for good. No hand had time to gently lift somebody off the ground to provide hope to show somebody cares. Do you or did you care that nobody cared? When you sat around at your dinner table or a booth in the coffee shop down the street where that homeless man sits waiting for a few coins to drop into his nearly crushed cup could you have paused to solemnly conclude it could have been you sitting there in those urine-stained tattered clothes? He has no place to be going to but you do. But why? How is there still hunger in America? We can effortlessly shoot a deer in cold blood or destroy a fetus that may have been a messenger of change but the poor are left to be poor while the hungry still go hungry. So time went by without notice but only now you wonder where it went. How much of your life is now unrecoverable?
“All the rivers are givers to the ocean. According to plan, according to man. There’s a chance peace will come in your life please buy one. There’s a chance peace will come in your life please buy one.” –Peace Will Come (According To Man) –Peace Will Come-Melanie.
Don’t be so humble – you are not that great. … We cannot forgive them for forcing us to kill their children. We will only have peace with the Arabs when they love their children more than they hate us. … then it seems to me that that is sufficient, and maybe what you will be is only a matter of chance.
Once so very long time ago our world reverberated with love for all. The animals freely roamed in the forest stopping only to drink from crystal clear mountain streams. I know it was so. Perhaps I a dreaming a utopian dream but maybe it can be again. Lay down our arms while holding our babies to the brightly lit sky as if to say here is what is most precious. They did not ask to be born. Can we at least give them a world they can live without fear of hatred fueled violence that rips life away while placing it in the mouths where it is greeted by the steel fangs of death who will eat it alive chew it to pieces while spitting out the rest?
The bombs lay buried beneath the ground…..waiting Constructed of the most deadly material man in his quest to kill while his conquers are poised to strike wreaking he-l- fire from all over reducing flesh to smoot to be scattered amongst the ruins. In another land, more deadly bombs await the signal to lift off to swiftly reach their target programmed to destroy all living or not. More lands have more bombs that too stand in preparedness to strike at will. So many weapons of war to destroy them before they can destroy us. Build more bombs that come anywhere anytime. Why is there this fierce frantic race to create the most deadly of weapons to kill us while we kill them as others salivate at the chance to kill both of us? If there is no world left to rule who needs to rule the world?
Whilst I look out the frosted windows there is the sight of the freshly fallen white virgin snow as yet untouched by man. Not a footprint nor a fingerprint has been implanted save for the gray squirrel on a scavenger hunt for food. Each branch proudly displays its new coat for the people to see while we stand underneath waiting for the snow to greet our shoulders with plenty to spare for our tounges to taste. Sweetness beyond compare. While the icy cold wind rips through our threads rapidly descending into our bones we are reminded nature controls us not the other way around. There is stillness in the snowy nighttime sky with a prevailing sense of calm with each flake the dances the ballet before floating down to the ground.
Of 2020 we do not yet know. Will we carry forth the rudiments of hatred from 2019? Man was not born evil but evil, wicked and corrupt he became. He discovered what he had while noticing others had more. What they had he needed to have a need to have. There will be another precious diamond crowned jewel that will bring the strongest of men to their knees. Under the heat of the spotlight, he will sweat and squirm but the truth will go to the grave with him. The lies men told for the love a girl with golden braided hair. She cannot conceive but others will for her. This woman can be any woman but where will be her place in the year of perpetual perfection that will not be.
“All my life I’ve been waiting for
I’ve been praying for
For the people to say
That we don’t wanna fight no more
There will be no more wars
And our children will play
~One Day, Benny Friedman
In the end, a lonely loveless man waits for his new day never knowing when that will be. Here he sits alone with his tears wondering what will become of him and what became of them. He has no dreams or one that he cares to remember. There were things he did never meaning to create sorrow. Now he sits by a fire in quiet solitude preferring to let it end this way. No news is news he needs to know anyway. It matters not who he is or was. In the blink of an eye with a twist of a tear, we can become him if we are not already.
Monday, November 11th, 2019 is marked as Veteran’s Day. We pay homage to those who gave it all in the noble cause of freedom. The fight was not one they chose yet they fought to protect our cherished land where we live each according to our own. It was man against his fellow man. Neither knew each other but a fight to the death was the only way. Those who returned relive those days of torture in restless nights repeatedly waking in pools of sweat. Here they rot in a country that has little use for them but cherishes them nonetheless. It is on this day be we for or against war owe them our deepest respect is to be afforded them.
Counting by one 20 follows 19. One plus twenty is next year where we hope to continue our lives in.