Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

 They want to set up some rules in our neighborhood. Nothing too draconian. Instead of "no signs" they want to allow "some signs" in our yards because, after all, people are locked in all day. Signs are a way to communicate. But no "sign wars," they say, and no signs that "cause offense." "That won't work," one neighbor announces. "Offense is in the eye of the beholder," and who will decide what's allowed and what's forbidden? Of course, "offense" might also be the choice of the offended... and whose choice is right? Someone put up a sign saying "Unborn lives matter," and I wondered, should that offend, or should it just invite the passerby to think? By contrast, a sign saying "Abortion is murder" felt much different, and felt wrong. After all, we can (most of us) agree that murder is against the law. So this statement accuses (unknown, unspoken) neighbors of breaking the law. I may no

I'm a Christian. In these strange times, I thank God for an elderly man, willing to give up his retirement years to serve others, rather than to being served by them. I thank God for a man who puts: people before profit love before law integrity before indemnity mercy before majesty I pray that man may win. But whether he does or he doesn't, I pray God will remind me that my only true hope is in Him, because: I'm a Christian.

  I believe black lives matter. No, that doesn't make me a baby-killer or anti-family (really?) as somebody claimed on Facebook. I believe LGBTQ lives matter. And I'm not an atheist as someone else insisted. I believe the Bible matters . That means I read it and pray it; I don't use it to beat up my neighbors or prop up my photograph. I believe immigrants matter . That doesn’t make me un-American. The judge who welcomed me to citizenship told me immigrants matter. I believe refugees matter. And I'm not a lawbreaker. I believe the homeless matter, and the hungry, and those evicted because they’re sick or they’ve lost their jobs and can’t pay the rent. I believe the physical health of the community and all its members matters, regardless of wealth and good fortune. I believe wearing masks can save lives.  I'm not drinking the kool-aid; I'm respecting the scientists who've spent their lives learning about epidemics. I believe the earth matter

 I believe black lives matter. No, that doesn't make me a babykiller (???) as somebody claimed on FB. I believer LGBTQ lives matter. No, I'm not an atheist as somebody claimed. I believe the earth matters, and it's warming. This doesn't mean I'm not capable of reading or understanding the literature (as an FB commenter said)--it means I take care, when I read, to look at the writers' qualifications. I believe the Bible matters. That means I read it and pray it; I don't use it to beat up my neighbors or prop up my photograph. I believe immigrants matter. No, I'm not un-American. The judge who welcomed me to citizenship told me immigrants matter. I believe refugees matter. No, I'm not a lawbreaker. I believe wearing masks can save lives. No, I'm not drinking the koolaid; I'm respecting the scientists who've studied epidemiology so much longer and more deeply than I have. I believe the Portland demonstrations would have been less riotous if

We should blame the people taking down the statues, make them pay to put things right--so said a "friend." But perhaps we should blame those who left the statues standing for so long; blame ourselves, who let our silence tell others what they ought to feel when they knew they were hurting. (Ah yes, and who told me "You like that; it's good" when I was too helpless, too young, too insecure to say no? Should I put a statue  up of  him?) We should let the statues tell our history, warts and all, because those who don't remember are condemned to repeat it--so says the friend. But I'd rather museums and text books tell all, while public monuments celebrate the good instead of glorifying evil. We should silence those whose oral histories have accentuated the bad. Alas, my friend can't hear how sad... Perhaps we should open the ears of those who have aurally ignored the bad. And perhaps we shouldn't blame, but should listen and CHANGE.

A long time ago In a galaxy far far away In a time just after one war Before another He grew up, just in time To fight And lived. In my galaxy far far away I remember and wish I understood the way from there To here; His war so far away from this His fear, and yet he knew the way And paid His price so dear. For that galaxy far far away As space and continents And prison walls to isolate His time to now His war to this His home, his dreams, Dad this Seems a very strange time to remember A hundred years A long time ago.

It’s a new world here On the empty street Where squirrels meet No fear of cars to greet A new world here On an empty screen With a virtual meet Where friends are far away As strangers here And the virus feared Might be all too near And zap the computer first.

We braid our street With footsteps, intersecting paths, and meet Always six feet apart Too far to share The beating of our hearts But wave and we Make this our art.

The trouble with internet meetings is we're forced to see ourselves as others see us and I look old.

I did not answer Did not see Your message. Did Not mean To leave you hanging. No reply. Now I’m Delighted that You caught me. Found me innocent No hanging offense After all, or fence To separate us, but We’ll meet. I’m glad You’re going To drop by.

High in her tower – the flowers like pinpricks below— She longs to be down where her lover awaits But she’s trapped, cupid’s arrow still wending its way Through her heart, through her soul, through her dreams Leaving pinpricks that bleed. High in her tower, with hair growing longer, it seems Still the answer is no… Still the arrow… Still longing and so… “Oh Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Oh let down your hair,” But only the doorkeeper climbs by that stair. Oh Rapunzel, still longing and so… High in her tower, she lets down her hair Like a bridge from the heights to the depths of despair Or like hope, and she draws up the silk for the making of rope. Then the answer will please; Then the two shall be free. Then high in her tower is she.

It was only a tiny hole in the fence but my puppy escaped and was killed on the road through that hole and I wished I’d asked Dad would he fix it before it could happen— always too late. It was only a tiny flame on the tip of the firework that flew the great gorge where the wild winds blew and fire raged and he wished he’d played something different that day but it’s always too late. It was only a quick cup of coffee me closer to you and to somebody else just a few strangers too close till somebody close found the beds were all full and there weren’t any masks and the doctors were ill and we wished we’d skipped coffee perhaps and perhaps it’s not yet too late. And the fire burned out and the new dog was sweet and coffee was served with some treats at the funeral.

Plague has emptied sacred sites while shoppers prey and fill the empty aisles.