Poems by Papa

There is nothing more rewarding than when we see our children and grandchildren embrace cherished family traditions.  Often they are the events and customs of our most endearing holidays.  But, what I really love, is creating new traditions, big or small, forever weaving more colorful threads into the beautiful fabric of our way of life.  Whether at home, on vacation, or during a fun filled calendar of seasonal events and festivals in the regions where we live.  There is nothing quite like the excitement that comes with having something special to look forward to and experience.  For this poem I have endeavored to express the wonderful times when my beloved granddaughter, visits our home for a long and glorious weekend, filled with traditions, old and new.  Stories, games, colorful art, sunshine, tasty meals, outdoor activities, and gardens are all the things we experience and do.  Beginning with the ringing of our very own

Without a doubt, there is an insatiable fascination with the extraordinary structures of every architectural interpretation that dot the surface of our world.  Particularly, for those us who are from well-traveled societies, mainly America and Europe.  No question there is something uniquely exotic about having the opportunity to view, first hand, worldwide monuments, some of which date all the way back to antiquity.  However, history does tell us that only one of seven wonders of the ancient world still stand today.  The Pyramids of Giza.  And even though they have endured, unlike, for example, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon or the Colossus of Rhodes, the Egyptian dynasties that actually built them have long since passed from prominence.  In the same way, the ancient emperors who built the Great Wall of China and the Royals who built Windsor no longer reign as they once did.  Nonetheless, there is a profound and persistent tendency of many nations, as well as, religions to revere locations they deem sacred to either their cause or reputed origin.  I must say, writing this poem was particularly enjoyable.  As it slowly evolved over the course of about three weeks I began to see a wonderful opportunity to use these icons, symbols, and philosophical sentiments to express a very different message about a very different kind of empire. The one that will always last, now and forever.  The one that lives in the midst of all the others.  The one that we will always honor in my home.  Regardless of where that may be. 

Beginning with my early adult life in Arizona, taking walks has always been very important and rewarding for me.  Whether it was on the many paths of Dreamy Draw Mountain Preserve in Phoenix, Soldier’s Pass in Sedona, the lanes along the Arizona Canals, or even the quiet streets of Sonoran Mountain Ranch, I always enjoyed the opportunity to walk and talk with my thoughts.  Morning or late evening, feeling the springtime warmth or the approaching season of Fall was absolutely soul lifting.  And, as much as, I have enjoyed a lifetime of swimming, whenever the occasion afforded it, walking is truly the finest form of exercise for the body and the mind.  I must say, those who walk for the health benefits and yet listen either to music or a podcast are, in my estimation,

Regardless of our age, loneliness is a desperate feeling for anyone to endure.  No matter how brief or how long it may last.  The causes are many.  The solution is one.  Love.  Even if only in your memory, find that someone who always loved you, unconditionally.  Just as I will always be, no matter when, no matter where, for my beloved granddaughter, a uniquely creative and sensitive child who, I have no doubt, will someday grow into a brilliant, bright, and wonderful woman. 

Regardless of our age, loneliness is a desperate feeling for anyone to endure.  No matter how brief or how long it may last.  The causes are many.  The solution is one.  Love.  Even if only in your memory, find that someone who always loved you, unconditionally.  Just as I will always be, no matter when, no matter where, for my daughter and granddaughters. 

Many years ago, I had the occasion to briefly share an elevator with four professional basketball players while in Phoenix, Arizona.  Now, I should tell you that I

I have always felt the worst nightmare for any parent would be to outlive their child.  I cannot imagine the grief for those who have experienced such a heart wrenching loss.  And yet, now more than ever, I have become acutely aware of the other side of the proverbial coin.  Dying before my time and not having the opportunity to do everything I possibly can for my beloved granddaughter and her baby sister.  For many years, I have contributed to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.  Where faith in God and the miracle of science have joined together to fight for every single child who have received their exceptional care, fruitful research, and servant love.  May the Good Lord bless every single individual who works there and, of course, the extraordinary man who will forever be remembered as the genesis of its divine mission, Danny Thomas.

A radio broadcast, nationally syndicated during the late 1980s, spawned legions of followers who became known to agree with everything that was postulated about socio-political issues. As the story goes, during the early days a caller into the show, and there were many of them, responded to the hosts comments by simply saying “ditto”. What followed soon after was the cultural creation known as, Ditto Heads. A moniker rabidly mocked by the social and political left as a symbol of mindless conservative minions. And yet today, we clearly see a new form of blind allegiance as so many are now spending most of their time on social media simply retweeting the views of those they idolize.  I have no doubt this phenomenon comprises the majority of all postings. Which leads to another question. Why is it that a blessing, and broadcast media is certainly one of them, always walks hand in hand with a curse?

Consider this; our greatest blessing as Americans, personal freedom, was exactly the weapon used by nineteen foreign terrorists, who quietly and freely boarded airliners on 9/11 and then proceeded to kill nearly three thousand people without firing a single shot. So then how do we eliminate the curse? In the case of that fateful day more than twenty years ago, we have unrelentingly built a society of electronic surveillance that today monitors virtually every aspect of our personal behavior, and now, even our beliefs and opinions. Effective? Sure. Slowly eroding, if not eliminating the blessing of personal freedom as well as free speech? Absolutely. All the while creating a perfect haven for faceless hate driven rhetoric cloaked as enlightened views.

I have lived sixty-six years and yet I can only think of one time when I cried instinctively. Five years ago, when I witnessed firsthand, the very second a beloved pet passed away. When her eyes quietly closed and her tiny head gently laid down for the last time, I immediately began to cry. No warning at all. Natural and true, heartbreaking, and yet, liberating. As quickly as it started, it stopped. Nothing quite like I had ever experienced before. I can only imagine what it must be like to witness a loved one actually take their last breath and then pass away. This poem is my humble attempt to understand one of the most extraordinary threads woven into the fabric of our hearts and minds.

What was once described as Mob Psychology, during the 1960s, has now evolved into the more current titles of Herd Mentality and Group Think, to name just two. However, the study of this social phenomenon dates back much further, to the middle of the 19th century, and remains the same. People will often follow the most sensationalized public view, with little or no regard to its validity. The burning desire to be a part of the latest rage of thought, blissfully believing it to be new and true, is far too great to give way to common sense, history, and now, even science. Nonetheless, in the same manner people doubt the very origin of our species, others spend endless static energy raising every possible question, even those which have already been irrefutably answered. All the while convincing our society’s most naïve to blindly join them by seductively labeling this treadmill of superficial thought as progress. Never considering, even for a single moment, that the genesis of what we are and why we were endowed with the ability to think, began at the exact same time in the exact same place for the exact same reason. And that will never change.