“Only when the tide goes out do you discover who's been swimming naked.”
We have had 2 panicked years of “do this”, “don’t do that” by the powers that be. “We have the solution!” “The end is nye if …!”. I think we are finally hearing a rising cord from the maddening crowds of “Enough!”. Stop the tomfoolery.
Do you know the story of King Canute? The great king commanded his courtiers to put his throne down at the seaside at low tide. Then, he sat while all his sycophants, idolizing subjects watched for him to hold back the rising tide. Alas, he could not and he stood up with wet feet and declared “See!” “Kings are empty and worthless.”
I retell the story because that is what is going on right now. We have knaves and fools, emperors, without clothes, trying to hold back the tide. Commanding their “minions” to stay the course and keep taking a jab and wearing a mask and isolating so to hold back “the tide” - the virus.
It won’t work. It never had a chance of working. We should have protected the vulnerable from the tide and left all the rest of us on higher ground, not at risk, alone.
We have miserable Biden saying that without the jab - millions of Americans will die this winter. Not.
We have the PM of New Zealand locking down the whole nation after 9 cases. Only this way can we stop the viral tide. Not.
We have groping, groveling governments saying total vaccination is the only way to stem the tide. Not. The tide keeps rising up (and going out).
Let’s refrain from more hubris. Live in the natural world and not against it. That is our only win as the virus continues like the tide to rise and fall.
Taking Off The Lid
One must wonder
at this world of
beer cans, ashtrays and “just because”,
wonder at the
movement of it all,
how pages yellow and lovers spent
crawl away to their corner of the bed,
how the flowers in the vase
dry and disappear, deny the day,
wonder at the way
it all slides down,
wonder and listen for
the sound that can’t be found
the sound that accompanies our
great, so gentle, imperceptible fall,
listen for the orchestra’s honest organizing whistle
listen for the violin’s whine and the oboe’s sad skip
the swish of the conductor’s baton,
listen for this one-step, two-step, the beat
we all, groping for each other
dance to complete,
to greet and applause beyond our laws
our false creations, our fabulous flaws.
One must wonder
at this world of
so much music nobody hears.
How much better we might dance
if we did.
Like a cook smelling, taking off the lid,
one must wonder where
the life lived, is hid.