reckon sufferings
not worthy to be compared
glory be revealed
Taken from the King James Version of Romans 8:18
For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.
Always good to know that as far as God goes, it is a case of been there, done that.
I dream a world where
joy attends the needs of all
A world I dream where
From the poem, I Dream a World by Langston Hughes.
The poem was included in UNCOLLECTED POEMS in the 1941-1950 Collected Works of Langston Hughes, Vol2, University of Missouri Press, 2001.
Quoted today by teacher James Lawson at the Funeral of John Robert Lewis.
As President Barack Obama said in his remarks at the funeral, the work goes on.
The testing of his faith, proved his perservernece.
President Obama said that John Lewis, “Believed in us even when we no longer believe in us.”
I Dream A World
Langston Hughes
I dream a world where man
No other man will scorn,
Where love will bless the earth
And peace its paths adorn
I dream a world where all
Will know sweet freedom’s way,
Where greed no longer saps the soul
Nor avarice blights our day.
A world I dream where black or white,
Whatever race you be,
Will share the bounties of the earth
And every man is free,
Where wretchedness will hang its head
And joy, like a pearl,
Attends the needs of all mankind-
Of such I dream, my world!
night of summer stars
low, near, lazy in the sky
sky of summer stars
Walking at night in the warm dark of summer in Georgia is something you to cannot explain to people up north.
I remember our first 4th of July fireworks down here and realizing it was near midnight and I was still in a T shirt and shorts.
No sweatshirt.
No hoodie.
No long pants.
Up north in Michigan, I was lucky to go out at night and not end up wanting a coat.
Jim Harrison in the Brown Dog novellas writes about a summer in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan without tourists.
It was so cold that people went to the 4th of July fireworks in snowmobile suits and watched the rockets red glare through snow flurries.
Walking in the warm dark of the Georgia night.
Stars so fat and close.
No big names but the North Star and the Big Dipper, maybe Booters, but so many stars without names.
Warm and lazy stars of summer time.
Maybe global warming will bring this Michigan.
Maybe that might bring me back.
Summer Stars
by
Carl Sandburg in Smoke and Steel (Harcourt, 1920).
Bend low again, night of summer stars.
So near you are, sky of summer stars,
So near, a long arm man can pick off stars,
Pick off what he wants in the sky bowl,
So near you are, summer stars,
So near, strumming, strumming,
So lazy and hum-strumming.
what you don’t do, what
you don’t say, games you don’t play
your smile all I need
From the song, What You Don’t Do, by Lianne La Havas;
Heavy words, little lies
Telling everything but the truth, the truth
Three little words over time overheard and overused, used
No sweet nothing could ever be turned into something new
No grand gesture could ever be made to measure you
I know what I got and I know where we’re going
You don’t need to show it, I already know it all
It’s what you don’t do, it’s what you don’t say
I know you love me, I don’t need proof
It’s what you don’t do, the games you don’t play
I know you love me, I don’t need proof
I’ve been saving up my time so I could spend it all on you, on you
Oh, all I need is to see you smile, I’ve forgotten how to be blue, blue
ordinary folks
most behaving well, just not
people in power
The story that seems to out there everyday that can wrap their minds around is that ordinary people are mostly behaving well.
On the other hand,
people in power are behaving appallingly,
panicking,
spreading rumors,
and themselves showing an eagerness to do nothing and a pathological lack of empathy.
Okay so I stole that line from an article about Katrina but the role of attirbutes came together to well to ignore.
For example, consider this from Twitter.
Oh COME ON GUYS.
disasters, trials of
common fate, can create bonds
of community
Today’s haiku comes from this snippet of text.
New bonds of community are often created by disaster, as Rebecca Solnit charts in A Paradise Built in Hell.
The shanty town built by survivors of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, and the self-organised evacuations New Yorkers arranged with strangers after 9/11, show how people facing a common fate can see themselves as belonging to a single group.
Like the Covid-19 mutual aid groups we see today, these altruistic communities provide glimpses of an alternative world.
From the article, “People power: the best books about the allure of crowds and community“
the path most taken
Titanic mentality
the end doesn’t change
It seems to me that in the old show, F Troop, a comedy about the good old days in the US Cavalry in the post Civil War West, there was this ongoing gag.
One of the Native American characters was always reading a book on the Battle of the Little Bighorn.
At some point some one would say, “Are you reading that again?”
And the character would answer, “I like how it ends.”
Last night I was watching TV and low and behold a lady from where I live in Gwinnett County was on CNN.
She was telling the CNN Anchor why she and other parents wanted the schools here in Gwinnett, the nations 4th or 5th largest school district, to be open in a few weeks.
She said she felt she was on the Titanic and there was no room in the lifeboats for her and other people who felt like her.
Her comments stuck with me.
It comes to me that the Titanic is a great analogy for where this great county is right now.
All the technology you can ask for.
All the power and services you can ask for.
All the anything you could ask for.
And neighbors, let me tell you, the story ends the same way.
THE
SHIP
SINKS.
We can argue on the course that got us here.
We can argue about who gets in the lifeboats.
We can argue about how to launch the lifeboats.
But in the end.
The story ends the same way.
The
Ship
Sinks.
I am getting more and more used to the idea that WE ARE ON THE TITANIC.
We are sinking.
Congress seems to think we have time to argue about it.
A lot of people seems to think we have time to argue about it.
This morning on TV I heard what I think was a one time Sec of Treasury in another (GW BUSH, OBAMA) administration who said it wasn’t the amount of financial aid in the next the stimulus package it was the LENGTH OF TIME the package would be available.
I cling to that.
One voice saying look at the length of time here folks.
I feel like these arguments and discussions on payments, masks, schools, quarantine, social distancing and what not are important, but in the grand scheme, no one will care.
Why?
Because.
The
Ship
Sinks.
The end of the story stays the same.
Only this time, I do not think any one is going to like how the story ends.
a sweet demeanor
selfless way, giving, caring
soft-spoken nature
Joyce Elizabeth Peterson was a rare gem on this Earth.
I only know that from reading her obituary.
And I only happened on to her obituary because I thinking about Duluth, Minnesota.
I only happened be thinking about Duluth, Minnesota because of where I live.
When the railroad came through here in the 1880’s folks said, ‘What is the furthest you can go on this railroad.?
And the answer was Duluth, Minnesota.
So the town where I now live was named, Duluth, Georgia.
And I was thinking about Duluth, Minnesota.
And wondered who lived up there or at least who had been living up there.
And I checked the obituaries in the local paper.
And I found Joyce Elizabeth Peterson.
The first line of her obit might be considered a life goal for any person any time any where.
Her sweet demeanor, soft-spoken nature, and selfless way of giving and caring for others made Joyce a rare gem on this Earth.
It certainly stands out today.
And maybe the fact that she stands out, she was a rare gem, is as sad a comment on us today as the fact that for us, Joyce Elizabeth Peterson has passed on.
Here is here obit.
Her sweet demeanor, soft-spoken nature, and selfless way of giving and caring for others made Joyce a rare gem on this Earth. She will be greatly missed by her family and lifelong friends.
Joyce Elizabeth Peterson, 95, lifelong resident of Duluth, passed away peacefully in her sleep on July 17, 2020 at Barnes Care assisted living in Esko, MN.
Joyce was born in Duluth on June 26, 1925 to Wallace and Elizabeth Clemens. She graduated from Duluth Central High School and technical college. She married Gordon R. Peterson and they were married for 45 years. She was a hardworking Homemaker, raising their daughters and maintaining their home. She loved to knit and spend time at the cabin on Caribou Lake. She was a member of Trinity Lutheran Church and active in the church circles and bible study groups.
Joyce was preceded in death by her parents; husband; and brother, William.
Joyce is survived by her children, Debra (Ron) Brochu and Cynthia (Terry) Cossin; grandchildren, Derek and Jessica Brochu; great-grandson she adored, “DJ”; special nephew, Richard Ouellette; nephews, Tom (Carol) Ouellette and Lewis Wackler; and niece, Barbara Gwynn.
The family would like to thank the staff at Barnes Care in Esko for her great care during the last 16 months.
Due to Covid-19, a memorial service will be held at a later date, hopefully sometime in the fall. Interment will be next to her husband at Sunrise Memorial Park Cemetery. Memorials may be made to Trinity Lutheran Church, 1108 E. 8th St. in Duluth, MN 55805.
every nation gets
the government it deserves
argue, though it fits
“Toute nation a le gouvernement qu’elle mérite” said Joseph de Maistre (1 April 1753 – 26 February 1821) as recorded in the Correspondance diplomatique, tome 2. Paris : Michel Lévy frères libraires éditeurs, 1860, p.196.
And if you wonder why every nation gets the government it deserves, Maistre argued that constitutions are not the product of human reason, but rather come from God, who slowly brings them to maturity.
Or, as Thomas Jefferson put it (and I have quoted this quote far to often but I am going to keep quoting it until it sinks in);
“Indeed I tremble for my country when reflect that God is just:
that his justice cannot sleep for ever:
that considering numbers, nature and natural means only, a revolution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of situation, is among possible events:
that it may become probable by supernatural interference!
The Almighty has no attribute which can take side with us in such a contest”
Notes on the State of Virginia, Query XVIII: Manners
A need of silence
and of stars. Too much is said
too loud. I am dazed.
Adapted from the poetry of William Alexander Percy.
According to Wikipedia, William Alexander Percy (May 14, 1885 – January 21, 1942), was a lawyer, planter, and poet from Greenville, Mississippi. His autobiography Lanterns on the Levee (Knopf 1941) became a bestseller. His father LeRoy Percy was the last United States Senator from Mississippi elected by the legislature.
Mr. Percy had a lot more issues and foibles that could be collected and covered in the average wikipedia article.
He could also write about minds that gain all knowledge but no calm.
Where to put Mr. Percy and his work?
For me I will just read his work and hope for the best I guess.
Just another of the authors you run into when you move south.
Here is the complete poem, “Home” from the collection titled, “In New York.”
I have a need of silence and of stars;
Too much is said too loudly; I am dazed.
The silken sound of whirled infinity
Is lost in voices shouting to be heard.
I once knew men as earnest and less shrill.
An undermeaning that I caught I miss
Among these ears that hear all sounds save silence,
These eyes that see so much but not the sky,
These minds that gain all knowledge but no calm.
If suddenly the desperate music ceased,
Could they return to life? or would they stand
In dancers’ attitudes, puzzled, polite,
And striking vaguely hand on tired hand
For an encore, to fill the ghastly pause?
I do not know. Some rhythm there may be
I cannot hear. But I oh, I must go
Back where the breakers of deep sunlight roll
Across flat fields that love and touch the sky;
Back to the more of earth, the less of man,
Where there is still a plain simplicity,
And friendship, poor in everything but love,
And faith, unwise, unquestioned, but a star.
Soon now the peace of summer will be there
With cloudy fire of myrtles in full bloom;
And, when the marvelous wide evenings come,
Across the molten river one can see
The misty willow-green of Arcady.
And then the summer stars … I will go home.
No Haiku For You 