I wanted to break the tradition of  me writing December’s blog. My dear friend and poet, Michael Conner, gave me permission to post what, I think, is a brilliant poem. It is from his book Canto Sun (published by Invisible College Publishing).

Progress and Decay

Progress sits on top of decay

like a Roman candle

We witness the brilliant flare

leaving in its wake

the ashes of dead systems,

and frightened men

who fought hard

to press on to the bitter end

of their dying composition.

Each period piece calibrates

the brilliance and peace

of the burn

stretched from the quay

across blood stained verse

Every aspect of human condition

seems enhanced or diminished

by this movement

Swift currents deploy to silence

The sovereignty of present tense

marks our passage.

-Michael Conner

 

I choose Michael’s poem because it echoes 2021. There is sadness in society fighting for survival. We debate:  political party agendas, government mandates, individual rights, and religious beliefs on the world’s most grievous pandemic—even after IT has killed (and continues) millions, upon millions, upon millions. We witness global warming temperatures of 115 degrees in Portland, Oregon, and astoundingly, snow in Hawaii. Continuous deaths are perpetuated by guns on innocent people. The Invisibles, I call those living second-to-minute in squalor–tents, have us pointing fingers and whispering, “It’s not my problem. Look what they’ve done to my city.” And political knives have sliced families, divided states, and seeded attacks on our National Capitol.

Yet, I remain in child-like optimism, that the symbolism of The North Star (I can still see on a clear night) will guide our planet.

             The New Year, 2022, celebrates what can be, and not what is.