A New World

We reach the end (of this cycle)

Welcome, and a warm first hello to the newcomers!

I’m so happy you’re here.

This week brings the final post of the series we’ve been working through together for the past six months. Today we examine The World, also known as The Universe; this card is a culmination of all that has come before, and simultaneously, the first step into something new.

Contents:

1. Creations

2. Father

3. Young Copper

4. Pronouns

5. Different Kintsugi

6. Black Mamba

7. The Problem of Evil

8. The Creature

Background Music: “The Moon is Watching (Universe Remix)” by The Lizzy Co Show

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Creations

A bird settled on a tree near my house,

And shouted at me, with all its bird-might,

Just absolutely popping off, this grouse:

“Don’t you know that you’re a bright gem of life?

Can’t prove your own worth, baby. It just is.

Someone who wants you to prove it to them

Is playing a game you will never win.”

So here’s the lesson from the bird, my friend:

It’s enough just to feel the wind on wings.

It’s enough just to have one special branch.

It’s enough when there is a song to sing. 

You’re enough every time you take a chance.

The universe tests all its creations.

A little bird observes what has been done.

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Father

My father let his wife hit his children,

At least, he let her work things out on me.

He knew, and he did nothing to prevent

Her rage; he was too busy with her needs. 

“I’m not an unfit mother,” she proclaimed,

Despite the scene that lay before us all.

She was so wrong, but I held all the shame;

So many memories behind a wall.

She melted down, the decibels racked up;

Words such as “no,” and “stop:” just foreign tongue,

Too complicated for her mind to suss.

With boundaries, infuriation comes. 

A giant backward step from my father;

“The kids are her domain, so why bother?”

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Young Copper

Young copper shines because it does not know

The long trajectory of its career;

It learns that it is bright, and made for show,

Serenely unaware patina’s near. 

The youth of metal blinds the onlookers;

Each fingerprint shows, obvious to all.

They wipe clean, but it’s already too late;

The sweat corrodes, the autumn leaves will fall. 

Unlike the season, caramel strays green;

The glare softens under the creeping scales.

Relaxing into new ways of being,

Youthful copper gains years and lives new tales. 

The way that we start does not always stay;

All we can do is live our day-to-day. 

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Pronouns

I live in a most-liberated town,

But something that is hard for me to know:

Folks get curious about my pronouns

Only when I wear buzzed head and men’s clothes. 

As my hair grows out long and feminine,

And I find myself more often in skirts,

The question of what pronouns I live in

Has gone, replaced with compliments from girls. 

The person inside never changed at all;

The same green eyes, still evaluating.

I feel the same as when I was so small,

Confused when it comes to social ratings. 

My neighbors pat each other on the back,

But I’m unsure just where their heads are at.

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Different Kintsugi

Kintsugi made from gold-dust is gorgeous,

But sometimes precious metal’s out of reach.

That doesn’t mean repair cannot happen,

But it takes skills that poverty will teach:

The courage to ask for the things you lack;

Resourcefulness, for when no one’s around;

Creative use of things fallen through cracks;

Instincts for when to run for higher ground.

Whatever you can find to fix the mess

Is adequate, is beautiful, is just.

A thirsty woman loves well the vessel

That holds tight; it will look the way it must. 

You’ll get your soft gold-dust, one day, it’s true,

But perhaps you will find a stronger brew.

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Black Mamba

I used to be a ready black mamba:

No bargaining, just one lone, deadly bite. 

It’s hard to comprehend the weight of love;

It cannot be equaled, though you can try. 

Spy midnight yawn, and sleep races to you.

Gray teeth in darkened maw: too late to run.

One cannot bargain with corrupted rules;

Better to hold your ground and seek the sun. 

A snake moves with steadiness of intent.

Don’t blame yourself for her strength over you.

She’s been practicing her whole life for this;

You never had a chance against her moves.

The lady is a serpent, yes, it’s fact:

Best not give her a reason to attack. 

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The Problem of Evil

Theodicy: the problem of evil.

It’s something that we all have reckoned with,

That is, unless you’re blessed and beautiful,

In which case: someone else can deal with it. 

A pesky variable in the math:

We chase it ‘round the playground, it evades. 

Evil and good can’t travel the same path;

Instant lovers, once evil grabs good’s gaze. 

Once violet, blue cannot leave the red;

Once opened, minds illuminate, stubborn. 

When gods only exist inside your head,

Remember there are many ways to turn. 

The water of theodicy is clear,

Just mind the current as you swim, my dear.

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The Creature

A touch that does not feel like intrusion:

The world inverts. Gravity turns its head. 

A warm, colorful, 2.0 version

Of a creature whom we had left for dead. 

Pour water in her mouth, and watch her cough;

She does not understand her gratitude. 

The creature’s learning how to become soft

After a hard life, made harder by booze. 

The floor is warm beneath the creature’s feet:

Strong hands relieve her own of their cruel weight. 

She does not comprehend that she’s at ease;

She casts her eyes up, wonders at her fate. 

Let the present elide the past, I say,

And let the creature turn another page. 

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All my best,