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You were born to live on

You were born with a ravenous appetite

You clothed yourself in civilization, but you act as uncivilized as anyone could be

You roam about seeking resources to consume

You select your delicacies from among fields that are without adequate protection, offering diluted fertilizer

You create confusion among your own; preaching about the beauty of unity while sacrificing your youth upon the alter of greed and desire of world domination

At some point, you begin to eat your own

Babylon, Babylon, even now you are preparing for your next incarnation

Old and Blessed

There was a time when most kids weren’t overweight, when their exercise was simple play from eight to eight. When their imaginations were crucial to their enjoyment, and their toys were sticks, rocks, dirt, and whatever nature lay before them.

There was a time when most kids during summer months arose each morning, after retiring the night before at a decent hour, had a hardy breakfast and were sent outside to breathe fresh air, conquer empires, slay dragons, burn calories unknowingly. They weren’t allowed to come inside, but for lunch and a snack to refuel.

In the future, people will look back and speak of a time when too many kids were overweight, when they were sitting in a dark bedroom, staring at a bright screen, using their thumbs to maneuver a cursor. When their imagination had been taken hostage by programs designed by programmers who also spent inordinate amounts of time in dark rooms designing programs that would eventually result in oversized thumbs, if theories of evolution panned out as they usually do.

I wonder if those people, in the future, looking back will be sitting somewhere in a gelatinous state, watching AI kids exercise, and use their imaginations to breathe virtual air, conquer virtual empires, slay virtual dragons without the need to burn calories.

Old and Blessed.

The child who hasn’t food to eat; Who doesn’t understand why she is beaten and abused; Who lives without the nourishment of touch that comes from love and compassion; Who lives without wisdom-like direction; Who retires each night without even the slightest hope of seeing tomorrow…

The mother who does all she can to care for her child, but sees that her efforts fall short; Who suffers abuse from a broken spouse, struggling to be a provider, but can’t even provide for himself; Who sacrifices herself privately to have the bit to give her child; Who has no opportunity to increase her own human value…

The world that turns on itself with weapons of war; That leaves ashes where greenery should stand; That moans from transgressions committed by tiny people who wield power they shouldn’t have…

Tears flow freely as recompense for the works of evil that has no good reason to exist…

Old and Blessed

I was kidnapped from a free state and carried across the waters

          Don’t tell me to get over it

I was mashed together with other sisters and brothers who didn’t speak my language

           Don’t tell me to get over it

I had skills in my native land that I used to build communities and empires

             Don’t tell me to get over it

I was forced to use those skills, with no compensation, to build a nation

            Don’t tell me to get over it

I lost my language, my identity, my sense of where I came from

             Don’t tell me to get over it

I was used as a tool to fuel economic growth in this new land

              Don’t tell me to get over it

I saw a war waged between brothers of a nation when my utility was threatened

               Don’t tell me to get over it

I was encouraged to become part of the larger society, but those opportunities died soon 

                Don’t tell me to get over it

I was returned to a state of fear, marked by restrictive laws and social practices

                 Don’t tell me to get over it

I have fought this land’s enemies on foreign soil and returned home to a state of less than

                  Don’t tell me to get over it

I have seen others accumulate generational wealth from my labor, while I had no share

                  Don’t tell me to get over it

I have seen my unique contributions stolen and not acknowledged as mine

                  Don’t tell me to get over it

I have made advancements in social, economic and business arenas only to be reminded that I have no right to these blessings

                   Don’t tell me to get over it

I continue to fight a never-ending battle, indeed a war, because my God tells me that justice and liberty are mine

                   Please, don’t tell me to get over it

Old and Blessed

Love would be a much better alternative.

          Compassion would be its companion of action.

Understanding would be a soothing response.

            Reciprocity would be its companion of action.

Respect would be a good show of acknowledgement.

             Admiration would be its companion of action.

Why do you act like that?

              I’m sure you wouldn’t want that from others.

Old and Blessed

Listen

Listen intently

Listen with purpose

Listen for clarity

Listen for directions

Although there is noise all around, learn to sift through and discard that which is not for you

And after you have developed the ability to listen, pay close attention

That voice is telling you who you are, who you should be

It will tell you what’s right and wrong for the greater, as well as for you

It’s telling you to define yourself

It’s telling you that it’s your job

It’s telling you that you should not relinquish that responsibility to anyone else

Just listen to that voice

Listen

Just listen

Out of eight billion, you can be unique

Old and Blessed

I remember when I was a kid going somewhere in a car.

I remember being excited looking out the windows for things near and far.

I remember watching the trees, clouds, buildings, and people passing by. This experience gave me such an emotional high.

And now I have grandkids, who don’t experience car rides as did I.

They jump in the back seat, with devices I never had, iPhones, iPads or Androids.

They merge with their devices, creating a scenario that would be loved by Sigmund Fraud.

They are connected to Tick Tok, Lingokids, SplashLearn, Sesame Street, Fish School, Astroblast Rocket Rush and Khan Academy, no looking out the window.

The outer world passes them by. It couldn’t capture their attention even if it could give it a try.

Don’t they know cars have windows which are great for viewing the world as travelers pass by? Just look out the window, you might enjoy what you see.

Old and Blessed

Why should I do anything strenuous at seventy-five?

Why shouldn’t I simply be thankful that I’m still alive?

Why should I attempt an ascent of 1011 feet up the side of mountain?

Why shouldn’t I simply enjoy a sip from God’s fountain?

I’m not the specimen I was at twenty-five.

I have nothing to prove to myself or anyone at seventy-five.

I’m confident that I can still perform certain feats because I’m healthy and alive.

And now that I’ve attempted the 1011feet ascent and made it to marker nine.

But I didn’t go to marker ten, I still feel good because what I accomplished was mine.

And so, I ask again why should I?

My answer is, why shouldn’t I?

I’m still breathing, and alive.

I still enjoy challenges at seventy-five.

Old and Blessed

Do you hear that soft voice telling you we’re not:

attentive enough,

charitable enough,

respectful enough,

loving enough,

forgiving enough,

prayerful enough,

humble enough?

If you hear it, listen to it. It means your conscience is alive and well. Don’t let contrary thoughts invade the good part of you. That voice needs more followers. It needs you.

Old and Blessed

This is all for me to enjoy, not destroy.

This is formidable in its beauty.

This isn’t weighted down in obligatory duty.

This reminds me of the love coming from a place that I cannot see or touch.

This proclaims the story of the Creator’s glory, which is so much.

This is for me to share in all its beauty.

Isn’t it for me to preserve and protect as a humble duty?

Isn’t it my charge to pass it on unblemished to those who come after me?

I must purge myself of greed. Am I conscious enough to do that?

Old and Blessed