Monuments

(A prompt used for a writing group I joined)

A pinkish, grey banner that had been red in the webbing of steel beams. . .

It spoke of a time long lost in the “Utah” skies. It fluttered in the wind, as the sun and breeze, beat the hue of such a prominent family. Lost in the times where acres and acres of land flew under red and white banner of Kennecott.  Now, like the many family that have come and gone, the earth is reclaiming the land of another tenant, bent on conquering her precious land. 

Once they dug and mined my rocks. Precious jewels they call them. Gold, silver, and now copper. They take and take, but give none in return. They cherish their medals and statues. Foolish ants building mounds that which does not improve. So this is progress. 

Lo, these children, with such short lives, trying to mark this territory which is not theirs. Still, their 15 seconds burns like the stars in the night sky. Twice as bright and short on life. Not knowing the true meaning. . .still they move. Fast these creatures called  man. They live so quickly. First, the dark skinned traveling in their tribes hunting the sacred bison. Bringing their teepees and arrows. 

Then the blue coats from across the sea. They claimed discovering a new land and "New World." There were tenants before, Sioux, Chumash, Lakota. Many tribal nation tenants.. Evicted by these New Worlders.  Followed by the stagecoach and wagoners building a new life, a new home. 

Do they not know this is my home and of my children. They carve their statues, their monuments, to mark their place. 

Their monuments--their true monuments--are their children. Their family. Their people. Dust whence they came. Dust where they'll return. Star dust so precious. 

When they remember, all life is interconnected. Each one important and none should be taken so lightly. So easily. Their monument is each other. This is the true value. Not rocks and stones, but each other. Lesson still not learned by all.

Like hordes of insect building their mounds, their little towers that reach for the skies. They ravish thinking they conquered the lands. Like parents, letting children win in their little games. I allow them use of my beautiful lands. Trying to make it in their image. Once done, they let the land go. Nothing wasted, nothing lost. Nothing remembered, but their pinkish grey banner on the steel beams.

I will carve my landscape. I know these man child can create such pretty things. So beautiful reminders of courage and honor. Still, it is a wash. Room I must give to my tenants. Give them a chance to honor all is sacred.

I, Gaea, can only smile, a concerned smile. It is a lesson still unlearned. Such beauty. . .

Mining for riches and dreams for pieces of paper green. Bigger houses they can’t use. Oils that satiate their metal horses. Zoo-ing and slaving their fellow tenants. The horse. The cow. The bison. They think they are the master of all around. Such foolish games these children play.  They gamble away their treasures, their future.

First conquering the animals, than with each other. They can't even conquer themselves. Dreams of power. Dreams of conquering. Dreams of dominion. I must, at times, shake their perspective, remind them who is the true Mother. Send my other children. Storm, thunder, flood, and quakes. Forces all around them. They in their pride act, as if, they are the dominant one.

Look at the roach. Survivor of war. Survivor of Ice. Survivor of the Bombardments of Space. These “Men” are just a blip. Age of the Dinosaur was a time. Tiny and small. Large and massive. Eaters of meat, chewers of green, these were an age when the times were lush. Green was a time. Massive trees. Massive beings all around. Nothing wasted. Herds roamed free. Cycle of life turned continuously.

Now these ants, these children, these men, they strain me. They drain me. Children of man makes me erupt with anger and fury. They fire the skies with their petty quarreling on lines on a map. Stupid these ones are at times. Can only pray they find their wisdom quickly. So quickly. Perhaps they can find peace amongst themselves.

They hear my anger. Let the lands rumble with my displeasure. Let the winds sweep across their residence. Let my waters evict those that hurt my other children.

A deep sigh. . .I close my eyes for these children with their funny banners and their steel beams.Maybe in they will see their grandeur. Maybe they will see my other children also have grandeur. Perhaps, they will honor and respect their place in this circle.

Such promise, Dinosaurs were children once. Perhaps, Perhaps.

Uncommon Strength: In Her Greatest Need. . .

Saturday. I sit in Panera. It's a nice place. A pretend fire is to my right. Plugged in at one of the precious outlets. People are eating their soup with their fancy bread bowls. (My favorite, by the way) Listening the classical piano overhead. I hear the musing of the people behind me. Their daily log of their life’s events.

Hmmm. Life events. It’s been almost two months since the year began. There still much to do. . .and still much to do. I’ve put some things on the backburner. Been making choices not to do things. I guess, I am bit afraid to them. Time is coming to end and they need to be done. I need to get these things done. There’s been some events that have lead me different ways—and they are all good. Yet, I need to get these things accomplished.

Plugged the ipod and put on my Nike+. Checked my status and I still lead in a few challenges. Fallen behind in some. Yet, I feel that I could do and need to do more. Last month finished around 100 miles. This month only 32 miles. That is a big drop. No fault but my own. Need to commit hardcore. Need to make the time. Need to do my road work. Need to do my faith road work, too. I am feeling a calling. Funny things is that the clouds the sun giving me a peak. Well, funny. I know it sounds strange. Maybe sharing my experiences is what is my calling.

Had a few signs of late. Did not want to write about it because there was some time that I need to appreciate it. I needed to go in a cave and just take in all the wonderfulness of it all. Taking a breath some things have changed. My niece asked me where would I go if I moved. Honestly, I just said Palmdale. Its my home. It’s my place. Its where my family are. Wherever they are is where it is most important.  Traveled around southern California. Worked from Ventura to Garden Grove. Would have traveled to other states, but I would been away from where I needed to be.

It has been that way for awhile. Been away. Been disconnected from the source. It seems life events have given me a moment of pause to course correct. Not there yet, but I am getting there, In this group I accidentally joined, it appears that I am the male energy. I suspect what my purpose is with this group. Not ready to share, but I sense my purpose.

One lady said that they want to hear my story. Their heart and minds have opened. I am really out of the norm for this group. All, except me, are elderly ladies. All married. All are artists-in-the making. They have some stories they share. They are a tight group that have shared many life experiences. It’s a coven, of sorts. It feels like I am a group of healers. I know that I was drawn here for a reason. Much wisdom is here. Much energy is here. Much change is in the group. Feels a bit weird, but its welcoming.

The leader of the group reminds me of an earth mother, the Gaea archetype. Much wisdom. Much passion. A Strength of an earth mother imbued with a gift. She has the gift of words. She said that I have much to say. In many ways, this is so true. 

We had an exchange. Like a protecting mother, she fought with energy. I felt it. Don't know if she felt the force. Needed not to take it personally, yet, I needed to stand to the brunt. Yes, there was some fear. Fear of her energy. Fear of angry words. Fear of consequence. Yet, I still needed to stand. Philosophical challenge. Fundamental differences. Like Democrats and Republicans warring on whatever. Their logic, their feelings, their beliefs were strong. Yet, I needed to stand. If war, then let it come. Let's hope this will last war for the colonies.  A house divided will not stand.

Ideologically, it was a struggle between disconnecting and forgetting the past and everything. I wanted to maintain the energy to stay connected. Being a introvert, I know the comfort of not being hurt by others. I cocooned and I'm in the rebirth stage. I don't want to dismiss the past. There is a strength of ancestors that we can not and should not leave. True, their are flaws passed and their stories are not necessarily ours.  Yes, we need to listen to our own stories and listen to our own voice. Being a loner, I know where she comes from. I subscribe one can will ourselves to be anything. I know this all to well. I know walking alone. Hopefully. . .

I will endure because I feel like a diamond being polished. After being crushed, pressured with constant force, I feel that I am being polished now. My facets are coming out. A master cutter is where I am. They have given me tools that I am learning to use to shine. It will be some time.  I hope in this exchange that I will provide the same change for them to flourish too.

That’s it for this post.