Looking Back to Isaac

I feel I must go back in time by posting this musing blog, written almost a month ago, to keep the continuity of my political flow and state of mind. As we approached the start of the school year and the season of political conventions, I was definitely disposed to be reflective. These thoughts beautifully preceed my most current comments, soon to follow, as we continue on our political journey in 2012.

The sky is cloudless and blue, the sun is sparkling on the waters of the pond as I drive by on my way to work and children are nervously and excitedly boarding big yellow buses, while our brothers and sisters to the south are bent under pelting rain and pounding winds by the voice of Isaac speaking in the Gulf this August 29^th morning.

The convergence of the remembrance of Katrina in the south, Irene in the northeast just a year ago,  the long torturous trail and uncertainty of the advent of Isaac, and the blustering rhetoric of the delayed Republican Convention has created a turbulence of thought and emotion and reflections on this clear pre-fall morning of the year.

We are entering the time of deciding, of voting, and of the inescapability of choosing sides and positions that will steer the course of our next four years of national life in America. Whose words do we choose?

Which way will bring what results? What, clearly and really, do we want? Where, honestly, do we want to go, and who, who will help to bring us there?

As election time rolls closer, we are all nervously and excitedly getting ready to board the big yellow bus of our choice while the world spins in confusion and conflict, screaming warnings and words we have a hard time interpreting even if we spend the time to listen to them. How do we choose which bus? By where it is not going, or by where it is going? It is time to make sure of our destinations as well as our drivers. Both are very important to accomplishing the journey ahead. Best of luck.

A morning of Isaac, the earth and false promises

A mourning of warning and remembering
A morning of thinking and watching and listening
A morning of fearing, or hearing
The voices that speak
In words, in winds, in rain and tears
A mourning of soul
to complete the earth whole
in a washing new birth of her years.

 A morning to contemplate these,

The voices as they speak
on earth to soul and heart,
in mind and will to impart
whatever wisdom they will bring.
A morning, a mourning
for more, or less
for whatever will bless
Each listening ear and mind.

A morning to make a fresh start

A morning to choose with the heart
Or will, or mind
Whatever the path is we find
to follow.