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Long poem by ROGER SATNARINE | Details |

M T E PART TWO

                                  ~My Theory Explained Part Two~


         ~Human Elemental Spirituality the Psychology of Science Vs Religion~
                                    
                                              ~SEQUEL OF~ 

                ~“The Human Mirror: We Are Each Other's Reflection”~
                    
                                 ~By Roger Chad Satnarine 2015~

Continued from Chapter 4 of Part One


Is there no such thing as Mind and Spiritually Influenced Energy? Energy defined is the Ability to do Work; and don’t we all Harness these Elements’ raw Natural Potential and Kinetic Energy to create, sustain, and end life? I must touch briefly, in reiteration to my other theory that Human Conscious Thought is potentially matter; given that the definition of thought is, “To bring into a given condition by mental preoccupation!” 
  
Mental Telepathy and Ethereal Encounters are examples of such. We can speak with our minds and move objects which I term "Potential and Kinetic Energy Applied Principles of Principality Related Physics." It is the reason why Spirits or Ghosts if you will; have the ability to move objects. It is widely believed and accepted  when one is in the Presence of non human Spiritual Matter; there is an increase in the readings of Electrical (FIRE) Energy and Climate (Air) Change.

Also, on a side note I would be in remiss to not mention should the aforementioned non human spiritual matter not be positive, and in a negatively threatening manner opposes humans; by using in prayer; Holy (WATER) and with Holy (EARTH) Salt…(Sodium Chloride) this will restore the balance of Positive and Negative Spiritual Elemental Influences and drive those Spiritual Elements away. Fight Fire with Fire. "Only that which is of itself can defeat itself!"

CHAPTER 5
Do we not use all four of those elements as an energy source to create and sustain life? Does the Air not carry and sustain microscopic biological life? Do not the Fires of volcanic eruptions create a new land mass?  Are not the “Waters” of oceans, lakes, and rivers full of aquatic life? And the Earth; does all of the aforementioned not occur on it? Yes my dear friends the Elements are Alive! 

The aforementioned questions are famously answered, as evidenced by the experimentations of Japanese Scientist Dr. Masaru Emoto. He claimed that Human Consciousness Has an Effect on the Elemental Substance of Water. Dr. Emoto would freeze water and take pictures of the frozen crystals that formed.

He then discovered that Water has Emotions by the crystals changing shape when Directed Human Consciousness has an Effect on the Molecular Structure of Water. Emoto's conjecture evolved over the years, and his early work explored his Belief that Water Could React to Positive Thoughts and Words, and that Polluted Water Could be cleaned through Prayer and Positive Visualization. Emoto's work is widely considered to be Pseudoscience. 

We all practice some form of pseudoscience in our own way. Have you ever seen someone talking to their plants as they water it, but think nothing strange about talking to their pets and actually know their pets understand them?

But that in and of itself poses the question; is it because only living things that have the biological properties needed to interpret sound can hear? Is it also the reason behind; what to me is a profound philosophical question, which are often times misconstrued as Mankind’s egotistical pretentiousness.; and this question of course is, “If a tree falls in the woods and no one (human being) is there to hear it, does it still make sound?

There in my dear friends lay the rub. For the concept of sound, one of the five senses; is also a stimulus that alerts mankind to the Consciousness of Life. It is absolutely ludicrous for us to think that only living human and non human animals are effected by those same five senses of Touch, Taste, Sight, Smell, and especially Sound. 

Based on the aforementioned philosophical question, if a falling tree makes sound; and with regards to the also aforementioned experiment on elemental emotions by Dr. Emoto; I could just imagine the conversation in any forest or woods. It may go something like this…. 

CHAPTER 6
{A loud crashing thunderous sound is made from the noise of a tree falling}

“Did you *See* that Rose?” “No Violet. I’m glad I didn’t but I *Heard* it! Poor Mr. “Maple” just fell over. He was such a sweet old man. I could still *Taste* him now.” “Yeah Rose; he always did put out the best syrup; put a real smile on the face of the Farmers.” 

“Yeah he was quite fond of them too. The kids swung and climbed all over him. He told me he used to like watching the TV through their living room window.” “Yeah; do you remember the time he screamed watching “A Nightmare on “Elm” Street?” 
“Yeah he was a funny guy. I remember the day I got mad at the neighbors dog for relieving itself on me, and he said,

“Don’t feel bad about getting “pissed on” but just worry more about your actions and its consequences when “pissed off!” Sooner or later that dog is going to “bark” up the wrong tree and that tree’s own “bark” will be worse than his bite, when he gets a “limb” or some hard chunky “bark” dropped on his mutt ****, and that “leaves” him “petrified”, every time he “would” come into this “forest”, he’s gonna get some “wood; besides there aren't any fire hydrants in the woods!”

“After that no more worries and I looked at life so differently. He was a wise old man and deserved being the “Branch” Manager at “Tree”-House “Savings.” I’m sure he will still be of good use and his presence still felt from his *Touch* as a rocking chair for whom ever uses it for comfort, or fire wood, a book shelf and or possibly his own casket. May he rest in “peace” or “pieces;” he is “still one,” and also “yet many” at the same time.”

End Part Two.
 


Long poem by ROGER SATNARINE | Details |

M T E PART THREE

                              ~My Theory Explained Part Three~


         ~Human Elemental Spirituality the Psychology of Science Vs Religion~
                                    
                                              ~SEQUEL OF~ 

                ~“The Human Mirror: We Are Each Other's Reflection”~
                    
                                 ~By Roger Chad Satnarine 2015~

                 ~Continued from Chapter 6 Paragraph 4 of Part Two~



“Do you *Smell* that?” “Oh yeah bet your sweet petunias I do. It’s “Mary*Jane”… she is hosting one of her famously known the world over…
 
~*(T)*otally ~*(H)*igher~ *(C)*onsciousness~ parties.  

“Oh she’s a real live one! Every body;  including herself feasts on the essence on just what she offers; both good and bad as it is up to one’s perception and interpretation of how  something or someone is here for a purpose and not just by accident. It’s such an interesting sight to behold. 

Did you know with her influence some of the best music, poetry, discoveries and advancement in medicine to help heal; as well saving lives as “Hemp” rope she was made for during WW2 became possible? 

And while I’m on the subject of war and its “violence;” it took a “Stoner” (Eugene Stoner inventor of the M16) to make a weapon used by some “Stoners” who used *IT* (M*J&M16) while “violently fighting for peace!”  Yes indeed her parties increase ones appetite craving for the munchies of knowledge from each other; one just can’t help love those “cannabis cannibals.”

“I’m reading her book… “*Puff* the Magic Dragon’s Tails…Tales from the Woods.” “Yeah; me too, this is my favorite part.

                                          
                                             ~CHAPTER 7~

“What is important in sustaining human life, and makes speech, the human language of communication possible as well? What is the most abundant and widely used building material used to make homes? What is used to make paper to write on? What was first used to build the ships to explore this planet? What was used to make the first wheels on covered wagons to discover the western part of our country, and before mankind were able to produce rubber tires?  

Humans give off carbon dioxide during respiration, for a tree it is oxygen. Waste for waste, an exchange to help sustain life; mutual negatives becoming a positive. It gives us the Air we both breathe and also makes the sound that humans interpret as their language. But oh what a beautiful sound we hear in a great singing voice.

When man came out from their caves, after having discovered how to rub two sticks together to create friction and start fire, then use sharp edged stones (does the Stone Age sound familiar?) to cut trees for fire and also make homes as he moved about the land, it was inevitable the next step would be to explore the oceans.

He used trees to build the ships and also to make the paper that became our maps to navigate with. When he eventually settled it was the tree that provided the stock to create the muskets and rifles that gave humans their independence. The wooden wagon wheel helped them explore and expand westward, unifying this great nation of ours. It also became the railroad tires that were used for trains to run on creating commerce and industry. And the rest is history.

Yes, I would love to be an apple or maple tree that would bear fruit and feed people. To stand in an open field for hundreds upon hundreds and thousands of years like the Great Sequoias; and from my height be able to see for many miles how the land and mankind has changed throughout the centuries. I would get to see a small town grow into a metropolis; to see people grow and evolve. 

I see them look at me in wonder year after year, when my leaves bring them joy from the changing of the colors in the fall, and they marvel at its return in the spring. I would have feathered friends nesting on my branches. I get to see those eggs hatch then grow, and cheer those baby birds on when they instinctively take that first leap of faith to spread their wings and fly; then return to me, both us happy to continue this bond of necessity.

I get to hear the words of passion whispered into the ears of couples as they sit and picnic beneath the shade of me, all the while professing their undying love for each other. I get to feel it, when the shape of a heart encases their initials that are carved into my bark. And I stand vigilantly as they consummate that love shortly there-afterward beneath me. Or when I am drilled into and my extracted syrup puts a smile on someone’s face having pancakes. 

Yes I feel. And yes I am vulnerable also; to disease, fires, floods, avalanches and tornadoes. All that affects man also affects me. I know and accept my fate, that one day I may be cut down and be sacrificed for the betterment of mankind's evolution. And I gladly succumb and surrender to my destined fate; on how ever long it may take, decades upon decades or centuries. But while I wait I was given the most precious gift imaginable. I was given a front row seat, and the most graciously lengthy view; 
TO THE PASSAGE OF TIME. “

“My goodness that was deep. I just kept asking myself, as I listened to you, that humans don’t realize we are not that much different to them. We equally rely upon each other; but it seems as though it is a bit one sided at times?” “Please elaborate I’m listening.” 

“Well we do and give them so much; the three basic essentials needed for life, food, clothing, shelter, furniture, travel, weapons, bridges, and especially paper to write on and for the recording of mankind’s existence. Our paper provides their books, currency, birth and death certificates, marriage and divorce papers, drivers licensees, diplomas, credentials, …paper, paper, paper….is that all I am?”



End Part Three


Long poem by ROGER SATNARINE | Details |

MY THEORY EXPLAINED

                                  ~My Theory Explained Part One~


         ~Human Elemental Spirituality the Psychology of Science Vs Religion~
                                    
                                              ~SEQUEL OF~ 

                ~“The Human Mirror: We Are Each Other's Reflection”~
                    
                                 ~By Roger Chad Satnarine 2015~

CHAPTER 3

“My dear friends I would be in remiss to not explain the reason behind the concept and inspiration for my Acrostic Poems; “The Spiritual Elements of Air Water Fire and Earth Parts One and Two. In both I Theorize it must be Acknowledged that there is Life in Everything; in all that is Comprised of People Places and Things; both Animate as well as what is thought to be Inanimate; given, that it is believed and accepted inanimate objects are devoid of the Biological and Mental Properties to have Itself, Self-conscious. 

The reasoning behind my theory is simply this; as I have inferred the Elements of Air Water Fire and Earth Are all Consciously Aware of Itself, is due to the fact that it exists in Everyone of Us. To reiterate; the aforementioned Elements can all Equally Create, Sustain, and End Life from Its Own Self-aware Projections of Conscious Thought Emotions and Energies!

Inside every Human Being all of these Elements can be found. Air; at any given moment courses throughout the human body. It is in the heart, lungs, brain, organs, cells and especially its Deliverer; Blood. Blood is Liquid Life; Free Flowing Spiritually Binding and Bounds Humanities Bloodline. Inside of our blood can be found iron, zinc, sulfur, and other minerals from the Earth. Fire is found literally in the brain as Electrical Impulses; and figuratively, as the flames of, as well as the fuel for the passion of one’s burning desires. 

And the Earth; well my dear friends, this is where it gets Biblical;

“But a mist used to rise from the earth and water the whole surface of the ground. Then the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being.” -Genesis2:7 the Holy Bible. 

Thus; the Elements are both religiously and spiritually believed and accepted as; “Being” “Instrumental” in the Creation of Mankind. The beauty for me in the Dogmatic Concept of God creating man in his own image and likeness is the name he gave us; yes both male and female; is Man; thus we are Mankind. 

I am sure God was pleased with his creation; but also realized there is more to improve upon, so much as to say, “WO; Hold Up Wait A Minute… I Need To Put A {“WO”-”MAN”} in it.” And as we all know in God’s Universal Language “WO” means “OF”. So {woman} is of [man]. God put Adam to sleep took a rib from him and made Eve. She then became known as Mother Earth. 

Man may procreate and leave his seed wherever he may roam; but a seed would not bear fruit without the soil of the earth. Women are the womb that is the soil of the earth. Both man and woman are equally important in the essence of life. My dear friends; and especially if a non religious, spiritual, and or atheist may be reading this; I am not ignorant of the Theory of Evolution,  which sates we evolved from the sea as a single celled life form, then became multi-celled, left the oceans, became amphibious,  then turned into primates,  and finally into man. 

That may be all good and well, as I respect everyone’s own Perception, Interpretation, and Acceptance of the Existence they see Themselves in; but did not all the monkeys, gorillas, apes, chimps as well as all the other species of primates forget to turn into us? 

Have you ever seen a retarded animal? I beg to differ. I am also not ignorant of the fact that no where in the Holy Bible does it refer to Prehistoric Times; but still to this day we are finding in the Earth dinosaur bones; and we know their flesh has transformed into the Fossil Fuel that we use today as a  Fire source for Energy.    

Chapter 4
We are a carbon based life form; the properties of soil, dirt, dust, and sand; can be found in any human’s hand. The Earth, this very planet; is a part of An Omnipotent Universal Being. We are all part of the Principled Principalities that connects any Life-force. 

My aforementioned theory is inspired by; as I do concur with Father Pierre Teilhard de Chardin’s own theory of the universe. Father de Chardin (May 1 1881-April 10 1955) is the great-grand nephew of the 18t-century French philosopher Voltaire. In Teilhard’s view, the never ending unfolding evolving Universe begins with Matter, some of which develops into a New Level of Life which Develops into Human Consciousness is both a Physical and Spiritual Event. In his book “The Heart of the Matter;”p. 25 he states, 

“I can now see quite clearly that fire had been kindled, I imagine, simply by the coincidence in me… of the three inflammable elements that had slowly piled up in the depths of my soul over a period of thirty years. These were the cult of Matter, the cult of Life, and the cult of Energy.” 

He is also famously known for his quote; “We are not human beings in search of a spiritual experience, but rather Spiritual Beings immersed in a Human Existence.” On a side note Father de Chardin is my personal hero and inspiration.  His researched and published theories has evolved into having others realize that the Earth; all of it; is a Living Breathing Conscious Life-force of Spiritual Matter.

Matter defined is anything that occupies space. In my “Theory of Elemental Spirituality” I believe that Matter; such as in the Elementally Spiritual Matter found in Air Water Fire and Earth all  have Consciousness, Emotions, Feelings and Energy. I also believe that Human Conscious Thought is both Matter and an Element from the Energy both can create.

End Part One.


Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

Retire v Retread

What I have for you today is not so much about re-treading an outdated fuel-based system--
little bit like reshuffling the chairs to fix the decay 
of a segregated Country Club.

No, this is addressed to economic policy re-tirers. 
Keep the tire and the chairs, 
but let's get the tread of our personal and public economies into EcoTherapeutic shape.

Economic policy administrators are everybody, 
but some of us have more responsibility for larger populations and larger wealth deposits than oneself, 
and one's household, 
and one's own capacity to invest one's own funds 
and future. 
Based on my own miserable failure in these areas, 
my best advise for public policy administrators is to do just the opposite of what I have done.

For example, 
do not invest your capital or equity in storage silos 
where your value will not have a chance to help fertilize local development--
and it doesn't get more local than a little Family Care, 
up to the point when Family Care becomes beyond what we can all do with and for others.  
Because, for instance, that would be breaking the Golden Rule. 
"Do to others as to self" implies do not do with others--
of any species, during any time, or era, or generation--
what they have not done with you. 
And, this Golden Rule is economic gold standard. 
I am here to tell you that this (0)-Sum Cooperative Value Network is optimally balanced 
for inclusive prosperity and equity. 
Economic Zeroism derives from Buckminster Fuller's fairly famous "Trimtab Conjecture."

Fuller lived as a Unitarian--
investing 100% in more than his fair share of Universal Intelligence. 
But, he wrote like a systematic Taoist:
Trim Tab (wu wei) optimized economic flow is deeply nutritious, resonant, resilient--
and our competitive cultural  and corporate alternative is toxic backwash.

Cash on hand is a Trimtab opportunity for risk,
 for learning, 
for adventure, 
for investing in our shared Universally Intelligent Abundance. 
Investing in mindful and grateful cooperation with colleagues 
(but not authorities or "experts"--
these were blasphemy to Fuller's sense of intellectual integrity), 
people who intend a community that feels like home--
nurturing, and caring, and cooperative, 
where adults play nice, 
and all the kids are graceful--
and not so blind.

The relationship between humans and their places 
is the story line of historical-cultural development. 
This cultural teleological view of history might, post-Bucky, 
bear the label ectosymbiotic evolution, 
a "positive" evolutionary trend 
(think "Positive Psychology" and "progress"). 
Basically, regenerative theory is a torus-formative Hilbert Space, 
filled with a positive teleological conjecture about our reason for being 
as a species.

Combining Julian Jaynes' endosymbiotic evolutionary theory 
of how the bicameral LeftDominant-RightIntuitive hemispheres developed 
the capacity for self-consciousness and awareness of "not-self" as Other, 
with Fuller's binomial metric information development, 
and Gregori Perelman's (et. al.) (0)-soul Universal Group Theorem, 
I find merit in the conjecture that:

Greatest, 
most equitably and peacefully inclusive, 
reason for investing 
in the hypothesis that we are all in Earth gratefully and mindfully together, defines,refines, and minimizes 
any crusty segregating cultural remnants to the contrary.

So, look around, fellow Bridge-Builders, 
economic developers, 
philanthropists for the future of everything, 
what seems to be thriving, growing, resilient, 
here for the long-term? 
Perhaps the urgency of our Transition Generation's position becomes clear 
when we suddenly realize that human biosystems, 
as we know and love them, 
are an endangered species.

Thich Nhat Hanh says of Buddhism, 
"knowledge is regarded as an obstacle to understanding, 
like a block of ice that obstructs water from flowing.... 
water can flow, it can penetrate anything." (pp. 48-9, Being Peace, 1987). Considering the possibility that any somewhat sane and mature adult 
knows enough to perform more sustainably, 
more optimally, 
more wisely, 
as we plan our economies and investments, 
what is it that we fail to understand? 
If our economic, ecological, and social pathologies 
are a misunderstanding of information 
already profoundly and democratically accessible, 
what is at the root of our anomalous cultural consciousness?

Our internal nutrients and economies flow with richest understanding 
when this balance is achieved between left and right, 
exterior and interior, 
ecological polycultures and economic value, 
Universal Intelligence and Polanyi's Personal Knowledge, 
cooperation and active hope of contributing, 
teaching, helping, mentoring, facilitating; 
between desire and gift, 
mindfulness and gratitude, 
justice and actively nurturing peace, 
Yang and Yin.

Invest in cooperative vocations, 
residences, 
communities, 
strategies, 
research 
and learning plans. 
Avoid competitive, survival-limited teleological assumptions, 
conjectures, 
missions, 
and corporate structures. 
Create cultural and ecological and economic music 
and dancing in revolving circles with those investments; 
not marching in competitive, 
extractive, 
self-commodifying lose-lose squares.

Cultural and economic EcoTherapy derive from consciousness 
of the Laws of Thermodynamics, of course, 
but, the Prime Root Law of Thermodynamics 
is the Law of Eternal Moment Thermodynamic Balance; 
what goes out, 
must come back in, 
and out again, 
regenerating frequencies of oscillating formed information (P) 
and reverse-functional Yin (NP) exformation, 
reiteratively bowing to torus-graced "Namaste."


Long poem by T Wignesan | Details |

The Rhine Salmon Complaint Translation of Etiemble s Complainte d un saumon du Rhin by T Wignesan

The Rhine Salmon Complaint, Translation of Etiemble’s Complainte d’un salmon du Rhin

						For Yvon Belaval
(A lilting musical poem of varying line length in quatrains with a refrain and much internal
 rhyming; end-rhyme scheme: alternate rhymes in succession: abab or in aabb and abba…)

   The Salmon:

Banks of the Rhine 
Joy of my loins
Bronze-sounding roaring 
of limpid spindrift !

No, my bleaks,
I tarry not
until the feast
whence I make haste.

When the salmon of the Rhine
swims towards encountering its lovers,
for all the gold of the Rhine
no chance of its turning back.

   Lorelei:

Leap, salmon ! Leap much higher !
Leap much higher, higher than the water,
than the waters of life, than the waters of death,
than the waters of death, than the waters of gold 
The Salmon:

Bloated dogs stuffed with soul,
what do you want of the plains?
I’m on my way to my lady
outwitting the (sirens’) breasts.

The poisons of filthy waters
haul you towards death;
with my lustrous paddles
I’ll arrive at a better station.

Every chance there on high,
beyond the echoes of thunder,
hop! with one jolly good jump
I’d have gained the glass palace…

   Lorelei:

Leap, salmon ! Leap much higher !
Leap much higher, higher than the water,
than the waters of life, than the waters of death,
than the waters of death, than the waters of gold !


   The Salmon:

Fishermen, you are mistaken
Who thinks of catching me:
I’m off to meet my lover:
Discard your quenelles.

Nothing will stop me,
neither the grass
of the deep calm,
nor the beaches of the isles,

nor the darkest shingles,
over which the sun enjoys
dressing for our eyes
temporary altars of fire.

   Lorelei:

Leap, salmon ! Leap much higher !
Leap much higher, higher than the water,
than the waters of life, than the waters of death,
than the waters of death, than the waters of gold !

   The Salmon:

At the heart which right night
am I going to – at last – know the truth?
Exhaust my desire for him
who palpates the eggs of my spawning?

This force within me so profound
being less of a salmon, I’d be drowned,
it carries me like a wave
and crushes me like a ray.


She breaks me and makes me whole
and lets me triumph over your sexual prowess
O ! Sirens, queens so rosy.
I don a head band to take on other battles.

   Lorelei:

Leap, salmon ! Leap much higher !
Leap much higher, higher than the water,
than the waters of life, than the waters of death,
than the waters of death, than the waters of gold !

   The Salmon:

I have in vain a premonition of Kehl’s caresses !
The quid, one could say: furious and curious, upright
in its ink of flame and mud, ah! Which 
dam of blue flashes, the black holes…where but where

am I? Oh! Prisoner of these queues of magicians
who seduce and disembowel you during their emotional                              
                                                           bursts!
But here’s my current and death is theirs
and I go past the bridge and life I’ll have won !

Gurgling air bubbles where the quid sleeps:
I have cut your gullet which had you tied to gold,
to the mud of galleons rotting on the Rhine bed,
to gold, when it’s love that I bear in my loins !
   

   Lorelei:

Leap, salmon ! Leap much higher !
Leap much higher, higher than the water,
than the waters of life, than the waters of death,
than the waters of death, than the waters of gold !

   The Salmon:

Stronger than the force in me
vivacious, this failing
in me which cuts me off
from my back, would it be

cupping glasses of river lamprey ?
an eel which crushes me
in this informed gesture
while I snap up an herring ?

O fruity salmon,
O trout of blue flashes,
after this night…
tired, how I am pumped out !

   Lorelei:

Leap, salmon ! Leap much higher !
Leap much higher, higher than the water,
than the waters of life, than the waters of death,
than the waters of death, than the waters of gold !

   The Salmon:

And my night entangles itself in billions of gulf weed,
Thickened in black milk which hardens and brings rotten luck,
The aveniau of currents cling to my scales,
I’m carried away downstream, I weaken, I give in,

Help ! I’m drowning. Surfeit of love, of soft roe,
For this back made lean through fasting and through faith.
Everything’s heavy, everything’s pulpy, everything’s deaf; but I 
                                                        hear this time
true thunder – peace - the recompense.

Should my back break with the effort and when the hour
of truth stares me fixedly in my eyes,
leap, salmon, leap even higher ! And with little concern
but for the act of spawning, and for the best, so be it, you die !

   Lorelei:

Leap, salmon ! Leap much higher !
Leap much higher, higher than the water,
than the waters of life, than the waters of death,
than the waters of death, than the waters of gold !

When the salmon of the Rhine
swims towards encountering its lovers,
for all the gold of the Rhine
no chance of its turning back.

Banks of the Rhine,
joys of its loins,
bronze-sounding roaring
and limpid spindrift !

It doesn’t tarry
before the feast.
Gaze upon its head,
and its bones.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014


















Long poem by Kim van Breda | Details |

OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21

OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21

ON 1ST JULY 1990~ THE ANGELS DID SOMETHING ALMIGHTY
FROM HEAVEN THEY SENT US OUR LIFE-LONG DESIRE-A PRECIOUS DAUGHTER TO LOVE AND ADMIRE.
TRUE TO YOUR NATURE YOU ARRIVED WITHOUT FUSS OR PAIN--THE FIRST TIME OUR EYES MET WE KNEW OUR LIVES WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME

AS A BABY AND TODDLER YOU MADE US SO PROUD
YOUR VERY LONG HAIR, GREEN EYES AND SMILE-
ALL THOSE GOOD LOOKS MADE YOU STAND OUT IN A CROWD
YOU STARTED TALKING EARLY WITH MANY VOICEPRINTS 
YOUR CHARM AND GOOD LOOKS HAVE NOT STOPPED SINCE
YOU LOVED YOUR DOLLS AND PRAMS-- DREAMT OF BEING A “SINGER”
 AND VERY QUICKLY LEARNED HOW TO WRAP YOUR DAD AROUND YOUR LITTLE FINGER
YOUR BIG BROTHER DEVON--BEST FRIEND AND PROTECTER 
MOST OF THE TIME YOU GOT ON PERFECTLY TOGETHER

FROM AN EARLY AGE YOU SHOWED YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING
AGE TWO AND A HALF YOU WERE ABLE AND WILLING
TO SWIM UNDER WATER AND DO MANY LENGTHS
THIS WAS CLEARLY ONE OF YOUR SPORTING STRENGTHS
AT AGE THREE YOU COULD BARELY WAIT TO START PLAYSCHOOL
“MISS INDEPENDENCE”, WAS YOUR GENERAL RULE
THE SLIDE AND JUNGLE GYM WERE YOUR FAVOURITE SPOTS
 AND TO OUR HORROR YOU WOULD CLIMB RIGHT TO THE TOP!
AT AROUND THIS TIME, YOUR FIRST BOYFRIEND YOU MET-
 HE LIVED NEXT DOOR, AND HIS NAME WAS BRETT

SOON IT WAS TIME FOR  PRE-SCHOOL
YOU LOVED YOUR TEACHER--YOUR NEW FRIENDS WERE COOL
‘SPRING BONNETS’ AND THE END OF YEAR SCHOOL PLAYS
THE TEDDY BEAR CLASS GAVE YOU SOME REAL SPECIAL DAYS
NEXT WAS ‘BIG SCHOOL’ AND YOUR FIRST CLASS
WE WERE SERIOUSLY ANXIOUS BUT FOR YOU JUST ANOTHER ‘MISS INDEPENDENCE’ TASK
LETTERLAND, MATHS AND LEARNING TO READ
YOU EXCELLED AT ALL THAT WITH INCREDIBLE SPEED
YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS CONTINUED THROUGH GRADES 2, 3 AND FOUR
YOUR PLACE IN THE SWIMMING TEAM HELPED YOUR SCHOOL WIN MORE

OUR MOVE TO AUSTRALIA… SAD FAREWELLS TO YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR PETS 
BUT, GREAT EXCITEMENT YOU FELT AT ADVENTURES TO BE MET
A NEW SCHOOL--“METHODIST LADIES COLLEGE”
NEW FRIENDS--JUMPING A GRADE-- MET WITH SUCH POSITIVE COURAGE
YOU MADE US SO PROUD IN THE WAY YOU ADAPTED
MRS. WILLIAMSON SAID YOU WERE THEIR NEW CLASS ‘ASSETT’
.
THE ‘MR BEE’ SPELLING AWARD AND MANY MERITS LATER 
WE ALL GOT HOMESICK-- BUT YOUR POSITIVE NATURE DID NOT WAVER
THE DECISION WE MADE TO RETURN TO CAPE TOWN 
CAUSED YOU HEARTBROCKEN TEARS AND A PERMANENT FROWN
ONCE AGAIN A SAD FAREWELL TO YOUR NEW FOUND FRIENDS 
RETURNING TO S.A. FOR OLD ONES TO MAKE AMMENDS

IT WASN’T VERY LONG THAT YOU PICKED UP WHERE YOU LEFT OFF AT ALL
 ADDED TO YOUR TALENTS WERE NOW TEAM HOCKEY AND NETBALL

AS YOU APPROACHED THE FIRST OF YOUR TEEN YEARS
WITH YOUR LOOKS AND CHARM, INEVITABLY THE BOYFRIENDS WOULD APPEAR
SHOPPING, MOVIES AND MANY PARTY SLEEP-OVERS
CHOOSING TRUE FRIENDS AND DUMPING THE LOSERS
DANCE SHOWS AND DANCING EXAMS… YOU EXCELLED AT HIP- HOP
 FUN AND OF COURSE THE DESIRE TO SHOP

THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL-- THE FINAL ASSEMBLY—AWARDS
TROPHIES FOR SPORTSMANSHIP AND YOUR S.R.C. PRIZE GOT MANY APPLAUDS
SAD FEELINGS AT LEAVING YOUR OLD SCHOOL BEHIND 
EXCITEMENT AT STARTING HIGH SCHOOL WOULD SOON COME TO MIND
NO PROBLEM TO YOU, IT WAS ALL JUST A BREEZE 
AS YEAR BY YEAR YOU CONTINUED TO ACHIEVE
SWIMMING AND ‘A’ TEAM HOCKY MATCHES ON THE ASTRO TURF 
YOU EVEN STARTED TO LEARN HOW TO SURF
FRIDAY AFTERNOON CHRISTIAN MEETINGS AND EVENING CHURCH YOUTH
WE WERE SO HAPPY YOU FOUND GOD AND HIS TRUTH

THE REST OF HIGH SCHOOL PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE WHILE 
YOUR LIST OF ACHIEVEMENTS REMAINED EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH
YOUR ORGANISATIONAL SKILLS WERE ASTOUNDING
COPING WITH TOUGH SUBJECTS LIKE MATHS, SCIENCE AND ACCOUNTING
IN HOCKEY AND SWIMMING YOU MADE THE TOP TEAMS
NO SURPRISE AT ALL THAT SWIMMING COACHES MOVED IN ON THE SCENE.

THEY CULTIVATED YOUR TALENTS FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH
EVERY YOUR NIGHT YOUR PASSION SAW YOU DOING MANY LENGTHS
WEEKENDS OF GALA’S AND NATIONAL SWIMMING
S.A.SHORT COURSE, YOUR P.B’S, AND FAIR SHARE OF WINNING
TOGETHER WE CELEBRATED YOUR PLACE IN   W.P. SCHOOL CHAMPS THAT YEAR 
SO PROUD OF OUR BEAUTIFUL SWIMMER ALWAYS AHEAD OF HER PEERS 
.
FIRST YEAR AT UNIVERSITY YOU BECAME SO INDEPENDENT
 STARTING YOUR STUDIES AS A B.Sc. STUDENT
IT WAS ALSO THE YEAR YOU LEARNED TO DRIVE
GOT YOUR LICENSE—DAD SPOILT YOU—NEW CAR—RESPLENDENT


YOUR FAITH AND TRUST IN THE LORD STILL REMAINS FIRM
AS YOU WALK AND GROW SPIRITUALLY DAILY WITH HIM

SO MUCH HAS CHANGED, AND YET SOME THINGS REMAIN
YOU BEAUTY AND TALENTS SO EASILY MAINTAINED
YOUR  LOVE OF SWIMMING AND OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENTS IN WATER
YOU KNOW WE WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR NO. 1 SUPPORTERS
AND NOW YOU ARE 21, SWEETHEART 
YOUR WHOLE LIFE AHEAD OF YOU-- TODAY IS JUST THE START
IT SEEMS LIKE JUST YESTERDAY THAT YOU WERE BORN—
OUR DAUGHTER~LOVES BRIGHT SHINING LIGHT~ WE ADORE
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED IN EVERY WAY 
WISHING YOU GOD’S RICHEST BLESSINGS ON YOUR SPECIAL DAY
HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY TO OUR BABY GIRL

TO HAVE YOU AS A DAUGHTER HAS BEEN A REAL PLEASURE
-YOU HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE OUR MOST BEAUTIFUL TREASURE-

(FOOTNOTE: OUR DAUGHTER WILL BE 23 THIS YEAR, HAS COMPLETED HER BSc. AND HONOURS DEGREE’S IN PHYSIOLOGY AND GENETICS AND NOW DOING HER MASTERS DEGREE IN EXERCISE SCIENCE. SHE IS ALSO A PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE—DOING SWIMMING, CYCLING AND RUNNING AS ONE DISCLIPLINE)


Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

Hoot-Full Owls

Like the foolish owls
we made enemies with falcons,
now we are doomed forever
to live amongst the ruins.
Rumi 

Are we searching for integrity
of species and clan and race,
synergy of EarthTribe centrism
appreciating our diversity of natural resources,
depreciating our monopolistic anthro-racial-centric history
and monocultural excesses?

What to do, how to respond,
to totalitarian tyranny
within my own ego-centrism,
and within another's home,
or community,
or economy?

These questions of avoiding negative monopolizing trends
monoculturing economies,
monochromatic elitist races 
toward presumption and resumptions of mutual immunity
alienability
grow perennially in Spring's garden bed
of polycultural nutrient hopes,
intentions,
opportunities,
permacultural design,
and polycultural installation practice.

Monopolistic economic assumptions,
like monocultural ecological identity,
are more fruitfully and forcefully revolutioned
as polycultural challenges
to religion resonant balance,
reconnect harmony and peace,
where we have become,
internally and/or externally,
monochromatically lost in ghetto silos of over-specialized deductive blackness,
stagnant genetic pools blind to what remains
of deductive-inductive integrity's analogical potential.

What did I think could not be coincidental
about rhythms of revolutionary dissonance
and epicentered patterns of evolutionary confluence?

Why do I fear
self-immunizing subsistence
resisting ecocentric co-entity surrender,
loving,
minding,
tending spacetime's brilliantly synaptic burning bush?
Humane/divine natural/spiritual pilot light
unveils transmillennial regeneration
Be-Longing Redeemers' Cooperative Commune
of economic EarthCommons natural systemic values,
positive psychological ecotherapeutic practice,
humor's common-sense
of double-knotting negatives
recommunion what could not not be,
polynomially double-bound universal fractals,
trigonometrically seasoning spacetimes of logical closure,
unfolding outstretching universal breath
of time and depth,
recreation through double negation.

Have we done
and not done
somethings to tick EarthTribe off
and out?
Untimely decomposing extinction and extraction
of Earth's ulcers and ores
oils and pores
gas and boils and bores,
fissioning our fused Elders
faster than Earth's slow-revolving reintegrative systems,
EarthTribal incarnate pilgrimage
toward globally inclusive cooperation.
I would pursue empty-handed love without death or misanthropic "Other" fear,
peace filling symmetric fore-giving justice
of interdependent, timelessly coincident, responsibility,
accounting EarthTribe's collective synergetic intelligence,
regeneratively balancing wisdom
reflected in Black Pearl's Key (0)-Soul Theorem
of Positive/Negative Balancing Community Teleology.

Where lies this devilishly ambidextrous tipping point
TrimTab threshold of tyrannical discovery,
reverse functioning mayhem and decadent dissonance,
moving mercenary competition
toward cooperative mobs of mutual mercy?
Slip-sliding competitive strain and pain,
both up and down,
coincidentally back and forth
uncovers (0)-Core balance toward equanimity,
omnipotent equi-valency,
confluence and harmony resolving,
diminishing violent systemic tyranny of sound and sight,
confined by exclusive racing cultural fear,
feelings of sad and angry power and monopolistic might
masticating sadistic nightmares trembling within siloed eternal night,
Even these spread spewing meaning's past and purposed future,
meeting mutually greeting NOW.

Who is winning our global competition
for more integrity
with less supremacy
within Self and Other and Earth's ecologic relay racing relationships?
Who is losing?

How do monopolistic habits and judgments
ego-iconic norms,
egocentric, rather than compellingly cooperative eco-centric,
id-entity,
rebirth polycultural Spring thaws
of thermodynamic (0)-sum balance,
Win-Win synergetic loving strategies
and co-passioned principles of eco-normic design?

Where do monopolistic SuperEco Yang and
coincidentally polyculturing yin id-entity
dance and tip their two-step
in perfectly harmonic octaved pitch?

Might this Omega Point 
breathe in and out
Here and Now
Yang convex-eco echoing
within eternally concaving
double-binding
timelessly reverberating
yin?

Double-jointed owls,
graceful friendly challengers
fighting with falcons,
predicted to live together forever within co-passionate flight
through mutually fertile wisdom,
transcending dark's light freedom
nesting trees of regenerating life,
Beloved Regenetic Root Systems
of endosymbiotic evolutionary strings, tendrils
folding and unfolding cultural networking past and future
Here and Now
(0) Tao SuperEco Present
wise and joyful grace of Form Co-Creation.

Like the wise owls
we evolve co-challenges with falcons,
now we are regenerating forever
to fly above and through past ruin,
fly below and reverse-future's radiant rain,
square-rooted prime function
of +P spinning (-)(-) negativity,
fusing what was bi-fissioned
re-naturing global EarthTribe's breathless spirituality.


Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

The Cascade Adventures - Part 1

It's been four years since I've seen so much as an insignificant mountain creek. Been overburdened with comfort, now frantic with nature withdrawals, having to settle for photos found on Google Images: emerald pine trees, blue jays on limbs, moonlight cutting through forests, lakes the color of Windex-ed glass. It's much like drinking water that's been doused with Crystal Light... you may feel yourself becoming hydrated, when it reality it's only satiating your thirst temporarily. So you can imagine my joy when my best friend called me up to break the news.

"Monica, Brandon, Joel and I are gonna go backpacking. Care to join?"

the finality
of a cell hitting the floor -
shoe tying

Like a bunch of sardines packed in a can on wheels, we headed out to beautiful Cascade: the place where the Idahoan mountains aren't just paintings from afar, but close enough to taste. We weave our way through the spider-like dirt trails, as we each take turns changing songs on Joel's iPod. It's my go and I'm searching through the John Denver list, mourning the fact that there's over a hundred songs by him, and not one of them is Colorado Rocky Mountain High (the one song I could say fit my feelings to a tee). The menagerie of everyone's taste in music made for an interesting trip no doubt - even if Jonathan picked the worst possible jams simply for annoyances sake.

My first peculiar observation:

Humans have been making calendars for thousands of years (the first being more akin to cave drawings and stone tablets than paper). But as long as all that has been going on, the mountains don't care that August is expected to be sultry as November is expected to be chilly. Cause June took her first baby steps with a stubborn December mindset - a meandering way to say it was cold enough to freeze your nads off. The mounds of five feet snow made it all the more comical the fact I was wearing plaid shorts. Mother Nature wasn't going to be kind, I could tell.

like turtles
struggling to stand -
our packs full of crockery

It was breezy at first. We would practically glide down the mountain side, using our backpacks as a counter balance. The snowy counterpart to kangaroos, we were. The glistening flakes were thick enough to snowboard down - granted I never touched a snowboard, let alone ridden one. But after seeing this it gives me ideas...

Monica smiled for the camera, as I fumbled for my iPhone, a smile that didn't even require the forcible Say Cheese! nonsense. It wasn't waiting for the camera flash, but the other way around. Now you might be calling that rather pathetic, but I brought my iPhone along simply for the function of capturing memories. Angry Birds just don't compare to the real ones, sweet with lilting songs.

My second peculiar observation:

Google Images is an absolute horrid plagiarist; some beauty just can't be encapsulated despite all our advances in high-def technology.

The downward slope finally leveled out a bit, if only for a few minutes. Truth be told the path never stopped declining - some routes were simply more apparent than others. Our group of five walked single file through the trees, all basing our faith that Joel (a person who has been to the site once when the trail WASN'T covered in snow) would lead us in the right direction. And here's another interesting fact; this was no official trail, but a hike through the purest of adventures, unpredictable and unreliable.

crushing pine needles
with un-gloved fingers -
roaring rivers beneath the snow

The first time my whole leg collapsed into the fragile surface of the snow made me realize just how far above the dirt I was walking. I'd ask Brandon for assistance with a beet red blush on my cheeks - I blamed it on my fair skin falling victim to the sunny day. From then out I tiptoed with exaggerated caution, my heavy pack helping me just as much as it was hindering me. For even a foot drop had to be taken with a grain of salt. Everyone had to adjust to the added weight (except for Monica, with her light load of a sleeping bag, nothing else). I'd very ungracefully glide through twigs and pesky low branches, oblivious of my bare legs. In all honesty the cold didn't get to me, just the scratches of neighboring trees is where my concerns lied. At anytime I could have stopped the whole gang, beaming, "Wait a spell and let me put on some pants for crying out loud". Course that never happened, my clothes were in the bottom of my pack, and I was no where near desperate enough for monkeying around with that sorry mess.

slick slates
slanting down the cliff edge -
helping hands

Joel, with his redneck stubble, beams up at me, "Every hiking trip needs a little bit of adventure, don't rush it by any means!". That's the last thing on my mind - the first is whether or not that rock I'm about to put my weight on is as stable as she looks. It's a very roundabout route, and as questionable as it is, it's safer by a long shot than the first path we took - call it a 103 degree wall.



NOTE: Still working on writing out the rest of my trip to Cascade. It was my first backpacking trip and even though we only stayed one night, the trip is full of wonderful memories.


Long poem by Robert Ronnow | Details |

Change

I am feeling the shock of fast change. How to cope with it is of course the question. Listen to Beethoven through the neighbor's window? Look up from the page? Appreciate doves even though they are so numerous? I seem to have limitless choices although this cannot be true. Could I have become a computer specialist? Sure! How to remain still in the ever-maddening mandala. To remain still on the outer edge of the wheel is to ride laughingly and pluck at the gold key. I force myself down into the craw of the black vortex New York until I feel the strong oscillations gather rhythm and expel me or accept me.

            What do I find within the black electric walls of this unique vortex? I find there is more space between people than I'd ever dared to hope. That my efforts are unnecessary and hopeless. I cancel my subscriptions and stop eating. I embrace wild roots and run through streets with arm around my girl.


                    *                                  *                                  *

What is important.
That question.
I part my lips in the middle
      and blow
eat corn chips, dipsy doodles
make love, eat grapes.
                                In their mere chronology
events have no relation. How was making love
different from eating grapes. Differentiation

is essential to bring order from chaos. The chaos
is the accelerated change created by our own species
whose consummations have a quantum effect
      on the environment.
                                   But the chaos
existed long before, and long after us
in both more serene and violent forms.
Again a duality, but here's why.
                                            For
each duality may then be said to be in a dual
relationship with another duality, forming
cubes.
           These cubes are difficult to join
with other cubes, unless first they are
somewhat melted.
                          We were traveling among
these cubes, maneuvering
through a static array of equidistant points
but finding it impossible to avoid striking them.

So why the difficulty adapting. Because no species
before us had to adapt to its own effects upon
environment? No, every species must

but our adaptations (of the world) are so successful
(such fabrications!) One green, one brown

                      Two dead leaves
                              sleep-touching
                                     Then a breeze!

                                        *                                  *                                   *

                        Loveliness and loneliness
                        these periodic
                        auras
                                 they sleep apart/together

sometimes not always
        using sheets of white nothing madly
                connecting, splicing, parturition
                        continuing to birth life and ideals
                                like ants or any other species.
                                        Tree, each poem, begins
                                                and ends and giving up
                                                        to life's forms
                                                                graciously

surrendering to greater force, power, strength
        whatever it is called, the clog of heels
                upstairs to the door, turning of
                        the key, the taking out of the
                                garbage down below, car
                                        starting, placed in
                                                gear, cat
                                                        meowing

anyway, for myself, personally, speaking only
        for myself, because although the Parks
                Department rakes the leaves as it
                        did last autumn, to keep them
                                from clogging the sewer system,
                                        I am in a heightened
                                                state of vibration
                                                        Quivering

like a long steel pipe banged hard against an
        iron beam. The hard hat feels it in
                his hand (on the gears) but
                        great buildings are built that
                                nature destroys in time
                                        with a little wind
                                                water, fire

air, you glide down through the limpid air
        toward the ninety-seven story abandoned structure
                remnant of an earlier civilization
                        abandoned but not yet entirely
                                swept away in slow waves
                                        of change.






Long poem by Amrapali Tendolkar | Details |

RAIN SHOWERS

The Earth dry and bare; waiting eagerly for the drops of care;
 


Caught in the hot, steaming summer’s snare;
 


The flowers and creepers decorating window sills; all look desolate and ill;
 


As the nature withers away in the sun’s merciless glare.
 


 
 


The men and the wives; the kids and the wild;
 


All are enduring the summer’s waterless exile;
 


They are waiting for the rain; to relieve them of the heat pain;
 


And of that life which has become a sweaty turmoil.
 


 
 


The wind strong and gusty; makes the roads yellow and dusty;
 


And the air around becomes suffocating and musty;
 


The birds forget to sing; their lilting, musical thing;
 


Even as the tree leaves wristle and make noise so husky.
 


 
 


Then come the Monsoon showers; falling first on boughs and flowers;
 


Making the trees and plants glisten and glower;
 


So the monsoon comes in grace; driving away summer’s trace;
 


Lashing at window-panes with its all-reigning power.
 


 
 


As the monsoon drives away the summer heat; with its raining rhythm off-beat;
 


And the flower buds open up to return it’s greet;
 


And as the water seeps in soil; a refreshing fragrance arise;
 


While the rain continuous to cool down hot gardens and streets.
 


 
 


The Earth grows green; and water droplets gleam;
 


On the smooth, waxy surfaces of the leaves;
 


Everywhere the flowers grow; in pink, red, white or yellow;
 


While buds make their way blushingly between tendrils.
 


 
 
 The wet and soft soil; now grows fertile;
 


And tender green plantlets push through the Earth in style;
 


Through soil the tiny saplings peep; as their sown seeds begin to reap;
 


And the plants and crops shake off the Earth’s temporary curse sterile.
 


 
 


As the raindrops go pitter-patter; water in puddles begins to gather;
 


And the little birds begin to chirp, twitter and chatter;
 


The insects begin to hum along; their irritating and happy song;
 


While due to rain and wind the roofs on houses begin to chatter.
 


 
 


As the showers for some moments cease; after giving Earth life’s new lease;
 


And the pitter-patter of rain is gently appeased;
 


The sun coyly shines; a cloud it half hides behind;
 


While the fluffy clouds move along with the cool breeze.
 


 
 


The fields now green and bright; are an artist’s sheer delight;
 


Pleasing to the senses of smell and sight;
 


The fresh air so sweet to breathe; that with pleasure the body writhes;
 


In the newly born rainy sunlight.
 


 
 


But this sunlight so quickly goes; as thunderstorms blow to and fro;
 


And Earth engulfs in darkness that now grows;
 


The wind rises and howls; with a voice that trembles all souls;
 


And day and night this gale roars.
 


 
 


The trees in fear tremble and shake; as leaves, twigs and branches break;
 


And the life of these trees is put up at stake;
 


Birds in nests cower with fright; and due to cold shiver with all their might;
 


And live in fearful anticipation of what else the storm may rake.
 


 
 
The monsoon now shows its ugly face; gone are its days of grace;
 


Rainy calamities take its place;
 


Cyclones and floods destruct worldwide; the raging sea throws up its tide;
 


“Nature reigns supreme”, we are forced to say.
 


 
 


Same is the life of man; may he do what he can;
 


But destiny will always play a hand;
 


What all will man control? So he should let destiny play its role;
 


And enjoy life and act as the situation will demand.
 


 
 


Somedays will shine the sun; those days life will be fun;
 


And work will be successful how much ever it’s done;
 


Somedays by the fun you will tire; and will long to get back into the attire;
 


Of normal life, however boring or glum.
 


 
 


Sometimes hope will come out; like a tiny plant sprouts;
 


And will remove from your mind every shade of doubt;
 


It will be a bright, hopeful ray; but for long it may not stay;
 


So we must make most of it when hope sprouts.
 


 
 


Just as the shower of joy; after summer comes out shy;
 


So shower of success will come when you have almost given up the try;
 


It will wash away your helpless sigh; and will give you a new will to try;
 


Which will help you succeed by-and-by.
 


 
 


Just as the sun goes behind the cloud; when thunder is heard aloud;
 


And darkness suddenly falls on Earth all around;
 


So also failure will touch you once; its upto you to prevent its repeated occurrence;
 


Or due to failure remain depression bound.
 


 
 


Sometimes through demotivation you will go; sometimes loads of success you'll know;
 


For we need all types of experience to make us grow;
 


Like some days it is wet; some days the sun for long doesn’t set;
 


But then it needs both the rain and the sun to make a RAINBOW…


Long Poems