No More — And Yet…

By Jane Tawel

https://unsplash.com/photos/qi8LhjI8-nE

No More — And Yet…

By Jane Tawel

February 25, 2021

*

There are no pictures any more

and yet we long to be seen.

We live inside our own closed doors,

and silently rage against the routine.

*

There are no words we want to share

and work is just a grind.

And even those for whom we care

just often slip our minds.

*

The lives of grey inanities

are revelatory — true.

We miss our shared humanity

and hopeful, bright worldview.

*

The days go ever on and on

just one day like the other.

We long for plans to bank upon

and health that’s been recovered.

*

But I have found in all of this

both listlessness and sorrow,

that I have changed my own wish-list

for better days tomorrow.

*

I’ve learned to care more for my kin

and even those I don’t know.

I’ve found a greater love within

and hope that Love will grow and grow.

*

I’m not encouraging deceit

on just how bad it’s been.

But neither is it utter defeat;

I think there’ve been some wins.

*

So maybe take some time today

to focus on the “shoulds”,

of how to live in better ways,

to love and do more good.

*

For even while we’re stuck and scared

and feeling like we just don’t care,

as long as we have one last breath

we live in hope of fighting death.

*

If I lose sight of The Sublime

I die inside, before my time.

So though imprisonment’s annoying,

Today I’ll choose to do some “joying”.

I’ll count the “no mores” with some regret,

Then cling like crazy to the “yet”!

*

No more — and yet…. . . . . .

I have loved and been loved.

I have sung and danced.

I have listened and been heard.

I have won and lost and learned from both.

*

I am hopeful in a new day.

I choose to look for joy in small things.

I fan the flames of faith to believe there is One Who cares for us.

I breathe out and in and feel the warmth of the blood that flows through me.

My heart still beats as evidence that life is anticipatory.

There are those whom I long to be with and those whom I hope to know better.

Wisdom and knowledge are waiting for me to discover them.

Goodness lives beyond place and time and Love is forever alive in the Universe.

This tiny taste, this small sound, this faint feeling, this sweet smell — 

are each and all worthy of my honored attention.

Taste and know that life is delicious.

And while I can still see anything, I can imagine everything.

*

Friend, hope is here for the taking. No matter how dark it may feel, take hope in your hands today and make something — even something very small — but make something beautiful to light your way.

© Jane Tawel 2021

Homily #3: Inside, Outside, Upside-Down

“Garden Mist” by noisen8r is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Homily #3: Inside, Outside, Upside-Down

By Jane Tawel

February 13, 2021

*

Reflection.

Introspection.

How does your garden grow?

Merrily, merrily or usually contrarily;

It is rarely in what one thinks one knows.

*

There is an inside swirling,

with thoughts and fears and broken bits galore;

and feelings unrestrained take the helm most times

and leave reason and worth cast ashore.

*

The outside waits and wanders

through labyrinths of time;

But whether future, past or now,

we very often find,

that outside does not translate in

unless we introspect

on whether demon or divine

our words and deeds reflect.

*

If we could wear our insides, out,

and see others’ outsides for what’s within;

we’d live as we were meant to live

in Harmonious Garden once again.

*

Oh, the world is right-side-up most days.

Yes, that is tragically true.

But if we’d live more upside-down,

 — You loving me — I loving you — 

We’d see reflected not Narcissus,

but souls that bear fruit most delicious.

The Tree of Evil and of Good

would make us into what we should

think and feel and do and be.

For Love turns all things topsy-turvy.

My insides out, your outsides in;

Eternal Life then re-begins.

©Jane Tawel 2021

Don’t Worship What You Read

Photo by Alfons Morales on Unsplash

Don’t Worship What You Read

By Jane Tawel

January 23, 2021

*

Don’t worship what you read,

It isn’t set in stone.

No matter if it’s law or creed,

or pamph-a-let or tome;

We have to understand that words

are personalized and timely.

So, hang in here a while with me

While I spin my thoughts rhyme-ly.

*

You understand, it’s just a book,

or documents by nations?

It’s full of good advice and thoughts,

But it’s mostly information.

*

All words were written down by folks

and much we read make darn good quotes.

But when we living now do sneer,

at solving issues close and near

by claiming dead views we adhere

or treating history like we fear

that men were gods or words are holy — 

We enter into dangerous folly!

*

Our founding fathers and our priests

once lived as we now live.

Their wisdom and their prophesies,

attention we should give.

*

But no words stand above The Truth.

Words used as weapons are abuse.

And how in God’s name up above,

did we think we can’t give a shove

to aged words or history’s troves

to live instead in Truth and Love?

*

And here’s a radical blunt thought,

What we believe is “truth” may not

one day be what we finally see,

when Life is no more mystery,

and we become, both you and me

Divinely human, as we’re meant to be

*

While lots of doctrines are quite true,

there’s Truth right here, in front of you.

But any faith, party, or state,

That won’t teach love instead of hate,

is messing with intent of creed.

*

Folks, we no longer should believe,

that old words slanted or decreed

by people stuck in lies and greed

should lead or feed or make us heed,

Just ’cause it’s based on some old screed.

*

All times and places ebb and flow,

and Yesterday we did not know

how in this moment, we should go,

or what to others we’d now owe.

*

Please stop believing God is done,

with tweaking humans’ weltanschaunng.

*

It should be clear that ancient creeds

were not writ down in stone.

Our problems Now we have to heed;

Our lot we have to own.

*

Though history warns us things remain

much as they were before;

they also change, as we must do;

Our Times we can’t ignore.

The only things once scribed in stone,

that God says to obey,

teach us to Love our fellow folks,

and walk in The Good Way.

*

So, seek the Light and just be good

and learn all you can learn.

But do not worship creeds or books

New Ways must be discerned.

*

For even words indeed inspired

are obviously aged.

So, find what heals

and love what’s real.

Don’t worship words on pages.

© Jane Tawel 2021

Practice Saying This Out-loud: “I Was Wrong”.

A poem by Jane Tawel

https://unsplash.com/photos/_8gzs9HYYhM

Practice Saying This Out-loud: “I Was Wrong”

A poem

By Jane Tawel

January 15, 2021

*

It’s best to start by practicing.

It makes it much less challenging,

than when you find you’re scrambling,

to just admit you’re wrong.

So, spend a little bit of time

Indulging me in musing rhyme.

I’ll tell you just a thing or two,

‘bout what I’ve learned, and what to do.

Just think of this as my word-song,

‘bout how to just admit we’re wrong.

*

The sin that humans first found trying,

which led them to the art of lying,

was when the truth they tried to hide,

because they could not swallow pride.

Oh, yes, it’s happened since The Garden,

that people hunker down and harden,

their hearts from love and friends from pardon.

We often skew reality.

and won’t concede our vanity.

We cling like fools to fallacies

and won’t admit we’re wrong.

*

So, find a rock, a toad, a cup,

and then, like I, just pucker up,

and kiss your pride into tomorrow.

Believe me, you’ll have much less sorrow,

when harsh or sweet,

you just repeat:

“I was quite wrong.”

“Why, I was wrong!”

“Oh, dear, I’m wrong!”

“I’m wrong, wrong, wrong.”

Please don’t prolong,

your mad insistence

to the resistance

of error’s existence.

Not one of us is bullet-proof,

We all misstep, miscue, or goof.

Just let go all your sad pretense.

Admit that you have made offense.

Or just admit you’ve joined the throng,

’Cause all of us are often wrong.

*

I promise you,

You’ll make it through.

Don’t fret or sweat it,

’cause soon you’ll get it.

And while it never will be easy

and saying “sorry” still makes me queasy;

I’ve found the more I admit error,

I see the world as brighter, fairer,

and full of possibility.

There is a real nobility,

in owning up and changing course.

Humility can be the force

for conquering lies or selfishness.

In meekness lies contentedness.

One finds a true sense of real peace,

and harmony and joy increase.

When I admit a sin or blunder,

The World is once more full of wonder.

*

We always fear our pride will hurt more,

than owning up to faults we once swore,

were worth the price of any war

or hurting someone we adore.

But was it worth it? Was it really?

To hang on to such touchy-feely

Anxious, angry, set in stone,

Points of View we’ve now outgrown?

Are the attitudes that mar

really who we truly are?

Or are we more than attitudes?

Worth more than old cheap platitudes?

Could we not give up foolish feuds?

And seek whole souls of gratitude?

*

In mind, and heart, and soul

We often fib or troll

for scoring points and goals

not being kind or whole.

Wholeness and peace will come

only to few and some,

who willingly

admit to be,

(and here I hope you’ll say with me)

“I guess I’m wrong. I was so wrong.

Well, I was just plain wrong.”

*

Give up the fight,

to still be right;

and then despite,

how much it pains,

our small, weak brains,

to lose false gains;

You’ll find with me,

you’re much more free,

when easily and strong,

you just admit, “I’m wrong.”

*

So, before you court disgrace

ending up with egg on face;

or by sin, flub, or mistake,

time and loves become heartaches;

I highly find and recommend

that some good practice time you spend,

by looking at the sky or mirror,

and thinking of your wrongs and errors.

You’ll find yourself so much more strong,

by practicing these words: “I’m wrong.”

*

Be brave my fellow travelers.

Be truthful, pliant, cavalier.

By owning up and making right,

Forgive yourself for hurts and slights.

Find those you’ve hurt when you were vicious

and ask them too, for their forgiveness.

And as a bonus and a plus,

you’ll find there’s quite a few of us,

who want to grow, and learn, and see

that even when we don’t agree,

There’s more to life than being right;

And if we know that, we just might,

be able to have the real faith,

that we can actually heal this place.

The earth and beasts and foes and kin

need us to swallow our chagrin.

Admitting wrong’s where we begin.

Then we might chance to win this fight,

of making Eden once more right.

*

Oh, I have learned,

goodness is earned,

by owning up to errors,

and playing with others fairer.

I’m learning how to be,

a humbler, more “right” me.

So, I don’t plan on quitting,

My habit of admitting

That just like you, I might,

Not always be quite right.

*

By letting go of being mulish,

and fear of looking dumb or foolish,

I’ve freed myself from stubbornness,

and from rank ego, found egress.

“Bye-bye!” I cry

to stubborn pride.

I’ve said, “So long!

to fearing I was wrong.”

*

And while I still expect

I’ll suffer and afflict

my human need to be correct;

I know I’m not yet perfect.

But still, I’ve been effected

When my pride is subjected

To thoughts I have inspected

To judge they’re still respected.

If I can loose my hold

on lies I have been told

or on the way it used to be — 

Oh, I am much more free!

And as a plus? — I am a better “Me”.

*

I aim by this daft tome of mine,

To lure you in with endless rhyme.

And let you glimpse the ebb and flow,

Of how it feels to let pride go.

Perhaps you’ll find as I have done,

That one can actually have some fun,

with making poetry or pun

about the errors we cling to.

I hope you’ll have the same break-through,

as I keep trying still to do.

However you decide to try it,

I hope my patter helps you buy it,

that giving up on being proud,

and practicing these words out-loud,

will help you be a better you.

Whatever you decide to do,

I hope you’ll find your way to Truth.

And just like I,

You too might find

The Way is better,

when we aren’t fettered

by always feeling we’re correct;

Instead of trying to connect

to Life’s eternal mystery.

Oh, won’t you journey forth with me — 

(And maybe take a friend along)?

Just scream it out, or write a song,

But for God’s sake, please don’t prolong

admitting: “I was wrong”.

©Jane Tawel 2021

Creating – a poem

By Jane Tawel

Photo by Sergey Zolkin on Unsplash

Creating

A Poem by Jane Tawel

December 28, 2020

*

I love to poke the “create” button.

Such chutzpah to think I have that gift.

And while I watch the swirling rainbow,

While waiting, not with patience,

But with expectant need

I think of the Greats, and trembling yearn

To hide behind their shadows once again.

And then I dare anyway.

*

To take a flutter at this desk,

Is rather like a gamble,

Where I am always betting against the house.

I hope my tics and tells won’t distract

From thoughts that try to cheat me from my life.

I let the chips fall where they may — 

Will it be prose or rhyme today?

And out it pours like dreideled coins,

My soul to chance this wager with my mind.

*

It seems a rather small thing,

This time I take to make words sway.

And though my jig is awkward,

And graceless is my tongue,

I’ve entered into meaning

In The Great Dance we all are from.

And just by trying, I Am Become.

became. become. has become. 

Becoming. Will Become…?

*

For whether thoughts are light or dark

There are in words, that divine spark

Where our imagination lives,

And where our hearts peek out of hiding

Like sprites and fairies. Like supernatural beings.

Words, like gods once seen.

For humans leave no trace behind

‘Cept dust and shards and love.

Yet on a tattered page or flickering screen

We join our solitary syllables

into an Us Eternal.

© Jane Tawel 2020

A Poem on Leaving the Junk Behind

Flying away
“Flying away” by Ian-S is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

If You Can’t Get Your Body Out, At Least Get Your Head Out

A Poem on Leaving the Junk Behind

By Jane Tawel

December 19, 2020

*

For several years I have been longing,

To flee my country, that’s been wronging

The little ones, the poor, the weak,

The different-hued, the hurt, the meek.

And while I wish I could just run

To somewhere that would be more fun

And somewhere that the rulers rule

By being kind, not being cruel;

Well, I have realized I am stuck

And so, I have to fight this muck.

*

The thing is that the people helming

Are far too often overwhelming

In getting in my craw and mind,

And making me feel raw, unkind

To others and to my own self.

So, I decided to now shelve,

The crud, and junk, and just plain meanness

And I will find some light and cleanness

by taking a long holiday,

from reports of the ones who prey

on peace of mind and care of heart.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll do my part,

To care for others and be strong,

To fight for rights, and right the wrongs

And I’ll stay here right next to you,

But if I can’t escape in true,

At least I hope that I will find,

That I can go elsewhere in mind.

*

And so, I recommend today,

If you are feeling evil’s sway,

Or just can’t listen to more fools,

Or watch as people worship ghouls;

If you wish you could run away,

As I have wished day after day,

If you, like I, believe you’re done

And feel you will be overcome

By all the hate and all the scum;

Why– won’t you run away with me?

At least our minds away can flee.

To better places, we can be.

Yes, Be! Cause life is more than space,

Or against time an unfair race.

Life is about our here and now,

And from inside, we find our Tao.

If we’re stuck here, there’s still The Way,

To rise above the muddling fray.

Let’s run away and go AWOL.

For most important, above all,

Is finding that small place inside,

That in Love’s shelter we can abide.

*

From worry and from grief, depart;

If not in body, at least in heart.

I hope that we can practice presence

And obviate bile and excrescence.

I seek to make this moment whole,

By living elsewhere in my soul.

Oh, won’t you come along with me?

Just think how lovely that would be.

Because together, we can beget,

A loving, caring, whole planet.

We’ll start with just a change that’s wee,

By going there, just you and me.

And we will bid dark days adieu,

By souls in flight, just me and you.

*

So, here’s to you, I give a shout,

If you can’t get your body out,

Then give your mind and heart some rest,

And look in others for what’s best.

To find The Good is just the start,

To free your mind, and soul and heart.

So won’t you run away with me?

We’ll stay right here, our best to Be.

© Jane Tawel 2020

A Love Poem

by Jane Tawel

November 30, 2020

Photo by Filipe Almeida on Unsplash

A Love Poem

By Jane Tawel

November 30, 2020

*

Your eyes,

Are the color of memories

I thought I had forgotten.

But they light up my dreams

And waking I remember

who I am with you.

*

Your laugh

is rare and stingy;

Like a coin that grows in value,

The longer it is out of circulation.

I hoard the things that I can say

To make your laughter fibrillate to life.

*

Your hands

have seen their share of work

and show the wear of worry.

But gently, gently they caress away

the stress of days gone sideways.

We touch in circles of meaning

And fill what felt so empty.

*

Your arms

Strong from gathering

the provisions of a thousand needs.

We lock arms together

 like wrestlers taking on the world

and rocking infant prayers for peace

 to sleep.

*

Your heart

Not beating, but ticking to my tocking.

And all the love we ever felt

Timeless, rages

against the seasons and the tides.

*

You—

 not in parts,

But  part

of the fused soul

We make from two halves.

And sometimes

We

Are whole.

(c) Jane Tawel 2020

Cancelled: Festivity in The Time of Corona Virus

by Jane Tawel

party

“party” by sundaymay is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Cancelled: Festivity in the Time of Corona Virus

A Poem

By Jane Tawel

November 1, 2020

*

Is it a party, if nobody comes?

Is it a fete, with a guest list of one?

Festivals, shindigs, and things we’ve once done,

During pandemics don’t seem very fun!

*

Last eve wasn’t “hallowed”,

Candy dishes weren’t shallowed,

And what is the point when traditions aren’t followed?

*

And when we don’t cheer,

Together with beer,

To celebrate wins and our teams—

Well, I wonder, just what it all means?

*

And churches prodigious,

Well, are they really religious,

If they gather for Christmas,

only if they’re litigious?

*

Welcome, peoples and nations,

To 2020 Celebrations!

It’s a whole new shebang,

For friends, families, and gangs.

But I’ve found if I try,

There’s a party inside,

That I just can not hide,

if true love is my guide.

So let’s take some new pride,

In being clear-eyed,

‘bout the new love we bring,

To our current wingdings,

Cuz you know, here’s the thing,

This virus can sting!

So, we just can not cling,

to the Past’s everything.

And I’d rather not break bread,

With you, if you’ll be dead,

Or if I’ll be deceased,

If I host a great feast.

*

For the people who claim,

It must all stay the same,

For the playing of games

or the days we acclaim

To be fun’s only fame—

I guess I must note,

that it’s best to devote,

all your talents and smarts,

to the home found in our hearts.

*

If you want to show love,

Or praise Someone above,

Then you don’t need the past,

Just the true things that last.

And the families and teams?

Well, c’mon, what they mean,

Is that we can be strong,

Even with no great throng.

Cuz the things that remain,

Have not ever been gained,

Without big or small pain.

Let’s not whine or complain,

But seek things more humane.

And those things can be found,

Even when gone to ground,

Are the pamperings and hankerings,

Of having big gatherings.

*

There is joy to possess,

 Happiness to access,

If you give in to fun,

With your party of one.

*

Let’s prepare for tomorrow,

And not greet things with sorrow,

Like our changed celebrations.

We can find jubilation,

If we just are aware,

And our hearts, we prepare

To learn these new lessons,

And keep counting our blessings.

*

There will still be a Christmas, and Hanukkah, too,

And we all can still “Skype”, “Happy, Birthday, to you!”

We can worship or “yay, rah”,

At home in pajamas!

Yes, we miss fests and fairs,

But we have to take care,

And though groups are desirous,

They can’t be with this Virus.

*

So, the hullabaloos,

I miss having with you,

Will just have to wait,

‘til pandemics abate.

Until then, I’ll be glad,

For the good times we’ve had.

And I’ll do my part,

To keep hope in my heart,

That though, now we are distanced,

If we just stay persistent,

things are going to get better,

and we’ll soon be together.

*

And though we can’t gather,

I would really much rather,

Find my own joy in waiting,

And my love demonstrating,

by long distance relating,

from the sickness mutating.

Oh! when Covid stalemates,

we will all Celebrate!

*

With most fests at a sad and regrettable end,

And upcoming Winter’s feasts just ‘round the bend,

Dust your doldrums off the old memory shelf,

Celebrate your aliveness! And your dear, best own self!

*

And before we all know it,

There’ll be new ways to show it,

When we want to amass,

And throw parties and blasts.

*

Happy Good Day to We,

Who will sagely agree,

That today we’ll care less,

For the past. We will press

Onward, forward, and through,

So that both I and you,

Will one day have alliance,

Gathered in our great triumph.

For by being alone,

For awhile, we found Home.

And we’ll all be more hardy,

The next time we can Party!

*

As October now fades,

Without fetes or parades,

Find a new joy in knowing,

Your immune system’s growing.

In your own company stay,

For each coming holiday.

Bunker down in your room,

With some good friends on “zoom”.

Know you’re truly the best,

When you care for the rest.

By forgoing tradition,

You are on a great Mission!

*

So, don’t be sad this Thanksgiving,

Just be glad you’re still living!

And we’ll buck up our fears,

and wipe lonely tears,

with the hope we’ll all cheer,

When we greet The New Year!

*

© Jane Tawel 2020

The Problem Is, It Isn’t True

A Poem about Lies, Liars, and Truth

Kernels of Truth
“Kernels of Truth” by Daveblog is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

The Problem Is, It Isn’t True

A Poem

By Jane Tawel

October 13, 2020

*

Remember when it was we two,

And we believed we could imbue,

A moral, high-road point of view,

in others and in me and you?

And when someone, a child or friend,

Would through a maze of untruths wend,

I used to say this thing to you:

“The problem is, it isn’t true”.

*

And we would laugh or roll our eyes,

And then to child or friend, advise

Them not the truth to compromise,

 By telling tales or telling lies.

*

Those days are gone and Time has passed,

And I thought we’d all changed at last,

But daily now I am aghast,

How easily Truth is miscast.

And I have found myself in mourning,

At all the lies that round are swarming,

And so, I offer up this warning:

By all means keep your point of view,

But when you think that lies serve you?

Or that from guile, good can accrue?

The problem is, it isn’t true.

*

Yes, lately I have déjà vu,

And my world-view has gone askew,

‘Cuz’ people that I thought I knew,

Support the liars through and through.

I fear they take the overview,

That in the long run lies accrue

The good they think to them is due.

The problem is?  That’s never true.

*

For lies and liars create strife

That have a lasting afterlife.

And nothing can make crooked, true

Unless all of us – me and you–

With humbleness and fortitude,

Change up complacent attitudes.

*

Reject the falsehood of rapacity,

And speak against evil mendacity.

We can not remain dumb and docile,

Nor shun the true Tao of the Gospel.

In Truth plus Love we find capacity,

To have both Goodness and Veracity.

*

We all are tempted to deceive,

And often tall-tales we will weave,

In our attempt to change or woo,

a “someone” that we’re hankering to,

Convince to our skewed point of view.

And I say, “skewed” because my eyes,

Are often blinded to the lies

That I can tell the whole day long,

To keep from saying that I’m wrong.

I like to think I’ve got the facts,

and those who disagree are lax

in proving things that I don’t take to;

And so, I swear ‘til I am blue,

That I am always right; Not you!

The problem is?  That isn’t true.

*

It is so easy to convince,

Myself that it’s okay to mince,

The accuracy of my quarrel.

The problem is? It isn’t moral!

*

We love to praise our own virtue,

Even when wrong, I’ll vanquish you.

And if we tell a lie or two?

So what? Aren’t we entitled to

Our own self-serving point of view?

My lies don’t hurt or effect you!

The problem is? That isn’t true.

For lies and lying hurt us all,

Which has been obvious since The Fall.

Today lies are in full free-fall,

We really must get on the ball,

To right the wrongs and testify

That Truth must live and lies must die.

*

To think we can crush someone’s dream,

To merely win for our own team;

Or that to save sculpture or fetus,

We’ll worship guys who lie and cheat us.

If we keep serving fame and gold,

We’ll find the center can not hold.

For whom we serve, we soon become.

For good or evil, we’ll succumb

To what we’ve hitched our wagon to;

We’ll be the lie, if we shun truth.

*

It’s time that we were all more honest.

Let’s not put up with all this nonsense,

Of fudging on the whole of content

or taking words out of their context.

We take one part and misconstrue.

The problem is, it isn’t true.

*

Our airwaves flow with fierce locution,

That fills weak minds with hate’s pollution,

And falsifies truth’s attribution,

With shallow lies as substitution.

We all must ask for absolution,

For making lies our contribution.

To fix our problems and confusion,

There are more ethical solutions.

Let’s all enhance our elocution

And stop this wreck of devolution.

By Holy Writ or Constitution —

Let TRUTH lead us in REVOLUTION!

*

So, as I look around me now

I’m truly shocked that we allow,

The people who are charged to lead,

Lie only to protect their greed.

We honor lies and even flatter

The liars and their fibbing patter;

As if the truth no longer mattered.

*

And when I’m super skeptical,

Is when they claim they’re ethical.

We all know Truth is black and white,

Hence, lying just is never right.

No matter when, what, where or who,

We all should have to tell the Truth.

*

When lies and liars are our leaders,

We’ve elevated bottom feeders

And said that somehow we forgive them,

Because we hope our cause outlives them.

But thinking this is so perverse,

That all throughout the universe,

There’s not a god or creed agreeing,

That can to falsehoods grant well-being.

So, all those prayers and thoughts we do

To Gods who see us through and through?

Those prayers are like cud that sheep chew.

God promises that He will spew

From out His mouth, all that’s untrue.

For in Love’s Eyes, it’s not our gains

That will forever long remain,

And hands that sleight,

Won’t see The Light;

For One Day, Love will make Truth, Right.

*

God is not mocked by lies and liars;

He expects us to go higher

Than thinking we can get away

By choosing evil for today,

In some vague hope, Good will ensue,

Despite the fact, it isn’t true.

*

It really is, in fact, medieval,

To think Good ever comes from evil.

Our lies make us much more primeval

And there’s no way for a retrieval,

Of goodness, once we are deceitful.

There has to be world-wide upheaval.

To make the playing fields more equal.

From palace steps to rich cathedrals,

Let Truth ring out from house to steeple!

*

We tell ourselves our cause is just,

And so lies do not matter much;

If later greater good is served,

Then all will get what they deserve;

And then we’ll bid the lies, “Adieu.”

The problem is?  That won’t be true.

(Lies feel so good when I crush you.)

*

For lies are catching, like disease.

When we have learned to, with great ease,

Accept the bullies who deceive;

We’ll never rise above the sleaze.

When we start down that slippery slope,

To gain back truth, we’ve not a hope.

We claim the fall out, we’ll undue.

The problem is, that won’t come true.

It’s not so easy to make right,

The wrongs we do for gain and might.

Once lies escape Pandora’s Box,

One never can turn back the clocks.

Once lying has become addiction,

It’s hard to tell what’s fact or fiction.

We think we will, but we can’t do it.

The line’s perverted; we can’t true it.

*

Let’s start today and take it slow.

Admit there’s things we do not know.

But if we don’t, we have to try

To keep from justifying lies.

If you help me, and I help you,

Together we’ll accept the truth.

And that means we won’t know a lot,

But still we can do what we ought.

*

If we say “Can”, instead of “Cannot”,

We’ll save our neighbors and the Planet.

Wholeness is plausibility,

But not by prideful falsity.

The problem isn’t clarity;

It’s just our fear of verity.

*

By letting liars have their say,

We’ve lost our souls and lost The Way.

We must stand up and must refuse,

To let the lies become our views.

*

It’s up to me and up to you,

and in our own hearts to undo,

this tendency to twist and skew

what simply isn’t really true.

I know it feels good, through and through,

To have our team fill up the pews,

And to believe that we’ll accrue,

Rewards no matter what we do.

The problem is?

It isn’t true.

*

We have to call out all the whoppers,

‘Bout how the rich are treating paupers.

We have to quit our foolish praising,

Of those adept at coarse evading.

We should be shocked at the audacity,

Of perilous and rank mendacity.

What has gone wrong in church and nation,

To cause wide-spread prevarication?

*

The Truth be told, a lie’s a lie.

No wiggle room to comprise.

Each one of us tends to pursue,

Just what we want to think and do.

We tell ourselves that we’ll get through,

And THEN we’ll find new points of view,

And uphold good for me and you.

But we forget the why or how to;

And just like Pilate asked The Good Jew:

“Why not let people crucify you?

Our problem is?

 So? What is Truth?”

*

Tomorrow never comes unless

Today we choose to do our best;

For yesterday is plenty proof,

That lies will never become Truth.

The Path is narrow, and The Way,

Is only clear for just this Day.

Choose Goodness, Love, Humility.

Choose Kindness and Veracity.

And if we tackle this World’s sorrows,

Together we can make tomorrow,

A Time that’s better through and through.

What once was crooked, will be trued.

*

I hope today when I’m enticed,

To make my lies seem like they’re nice,

Or when I try to win or score,

I’ll stop to realize that there’s more,

To being all I’m meant to be;

And I will pause and take a knee.

Not worshipping a flag or book,

But truly taking a hard look

At what is meant to be my role,

In seeking wholeness for my soul.

And that means doing the hard labor,

Of scorning lies, and loving neighbor.

*

And on my knees, I’ll look inside

And realize that I can not hide,

From Truth and Love and Light and You

And that whenever I try to,

I pray that Love will win and woo,

With Words that lovingly undo,

The falsehoods in my own worldview.

*

Today I draw lines in the sand,

For with True Truth, my soul must stand.

Let’s fight the fight, Friend; me and you?

And Right will Win,

For Love is True.

*

Let’s all to others, grace bestow.

Accept there’s much we do not know.

In Truth and Love we all should grow.

The low made high, the high brought low.

And to a Heaven on Earth we’ll go.

The answer is?

May it be so.

© Jane Tawel 2020

This Heart -a poem

This Heart — a poem

by Jane Tawel

“Chasm” by Swissendo is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

This Heart

By Jane Tawel

September 7, 2020

*

This heart,

I can not hold.

Its beat escapes me,

Like the sound of a diffident drum.

*

And yet, I long to look somewhere,

to find the source.

In my mirror, perhaps?

Or in the stars or skies, 

or someone’s smile?

In the crevices of my childhood,

awash with bits of benevolence

amidst the scars 

deeper than the chasms of remembered wounds?

*

Or does this heart move and bleed apart from me;

a willing and unwilling partner,

a sometimes pacemaker of my soul,

keeping alive that which measures the motions 

echoed timelessly and in my time,

 in the clefts of consciousness

 chalked with crumbs

of stories, myths, and songs?

A heart may be, as one for all and all for one,

for heroes, villains, and all children born?

*

This heart, hidden in

The girth of eternity — 

I want to wrest it

From my chest

And see there in the last moments,

 the pulsing light of

That organ that best encompasses

The meaning of myself.

*

Not half a brain between us;

my heart and I yearn,

Not for grand ideas or vast knowledge,

But for the scratched-out wisdom

That comes only

With the pain of loss,

The shortness of the season,

And the hope of love.

*

This heart

That throbs foolishly

without sense;

calls to me to free it from

the prison of myself;

opening up riches

from my chest

to bleed its treasures elsewhere.

© Jane Tawel 2020

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