I hope so, Dennis. I hope to god you're right. Rated for beauty and hope and thoughtfulness, with love, bold italics.

This reads like a hymn. And here I thought leaving my religion left me without the need of such a thing. I'm not going to sing it at this moment, but the song is what today has felt like, somehow. Thank you, Dennis.

Such lovely metered verse ...

"that uncovers the stuff you are made..." how true.

Thanks. Dennis Knight, I'm glad I turned the 'contraption gadget back on. Participation in Life is essential if we people don't wish to wither into one putrid-wastrel -- dried-up ---dried-up and infertile scrotum. Huh?

That's one 'weird' sacred analogy, huh?

Amalgamation. -- by Harry Folsom. - Lil Copan.

The art piece depiction is of a colorful painting.
The painted Faces are scrunched-up, smirking,
snarling, teeth-gritting, and howling looking.
People aren't participating in Life's process.
Often, even if actively critiquing Life's mess:`
Human participants still feel sadly estranged.
People are sandwiched between thick smogs.
Skies are pressing-down and laborers clench.
Clenched? Clenched in crazed sad confusion.
They are in shock of buildings shaped in box.
Box? Boxes of colored buildings. Lunchboxe.
Colors? Colors that seem familiar. Betrayals.
`
Wars, industry, bank bail outs, Lies. War. Lie.
Lies. War. Bloodshed. Death. Red Blood. Cry.
War's are lies. Sad. The effort to transcend it?
The grief denied.
Enormous pains.
War. Lied. Greed.
`
I understand you.
Then, the silence.
Ya get leek soup!

Medic sees red boo boos.
People are blown to bits.
I appreciate Ya for Hope.
`
This eve new? B.` Obama?
You need to raise B.Hope?
Bob Hope and Bob Dylan?
A Christmas go go dancer?

A troops gaze out airplane.
Knowing they are deceived.
Go GI! Lies. Betrayal. Wars.
on and on
Thanks for the upside poem.

beautiful.

Yep, that's about how it goes. Just waiting for that deep rain cleansed feeling....Beautiful.

Thanks Dennis, this is beautiful. Today, I am trying to find that soft, quiet healing after the storm. I love the picture you painted with this piece - the raging winds that uncover what we are made of, challenge us to hold on and then let go and, finally, to replant our roots.

Frank,
Thank you for your kind words. And yes. I’m sure of it. For you.

CK,
I’m very grateful for your use of the hymn metaphor. There is that Cathedral of life where creeds and dogma are forgotten and the living is what matters most. I know you’ll sing it just fine in that sanctuary. Oh. And BAM.

Scarlett,
Thanks for commenting on the meter. It’s nearly a disdained art nowadays :)

Art,
You’re a treasure my good man. I bow to your use of words and metaphors. Thank you very much for your comment.

jlynne,
You won’t wait too long I’m sure. The fact that you’re a person who waits at all sort of makes that certain.

Melissa,
Thank you for your very kind comment. You know well the soft, gentle, quiet “place” is not about geography. It’s about seasons. And it’s also about heart. And you have plenty of that.

It read like a melody for me. There's a lesson born of experience in it. I like the optimism.

appreciated

Dennis, My Of All things Great & Small poem was meant to be single-spaced but for some reason when I pasted it into OS it changed its format and I couldn't get it back to the original. It meant it to have no space between/lines the phrases like yours. Any suggestion?
thanks
Ms. Scarlett

Scarlett,
Thanks for your question. Check your mail for my long-winded answer.

Just remember Dennis, after the wind blows and the dust settles, nature always finds its balance. As much as we would like to, we can't force it to happen sooner or make it so.
Listen to the sky instead of the wind.

I love this. I love the example that nature gives us. Even when there is devastation, there is always opportunity for regrowth. The fire devastates, but it is the only way there can be new life. I see this in the mountains several years after a forest fire. It's hard to believe when we're in the middle of the storm and we feel so broken and weary that hope seems like a cruel myth. I've experienced these internal fires with the same results. I come out scathed, but the scars give testimony to the resilience of all of us. Your poem captures this perfectly Dennis. Thank you. It is something I will treasure and read over and over and over again. Highly rated.

Dennis I feel like you've just written about the past month in my life.
The tension grows all the way until the cataclysmic end...
And then peace...

Rated with thanks

it's a good feeling, knowing those roots are there, knuckling into the earth. i love this poem. thank you.

O’Really,
I appreciate your kind words very much. The poem was actually written some time ago. I posted it in hope it might bring some healing to those who are hurting and confused.

Mary,
Thank you for such a generous and thoughtful comment. Your insights reveal a heart that has embraced the meaning and purpose of the challenges we face in the only way that leads to growth and wholeness. The fire and new life are such excellent examples of this truth. Thank you.

JL,
I’m grateful for your comment. I have a hunch artistic folks are fueled for their craft by these challenges in ways they seldom realize at the time.

Femme,
You touched on the central point. Roots are so vital. And often their size and mass underground is far larger than what appears above. Thank you for your words.

Lorraine,
You’re welcome :)

My original reading of this was literal, rather than metaphorical. I thought you were talking of real storms, and my mind wandered off thinking about Climate Change, its storms, and whether there would even be a time after the winds it brings begin to blow more freely. Thankfully there are storms in both reality and the mind which are less breezy than that, and which do have time after.

This is stunning. really moving.

This is the stuff. Really fantastic, Dennis. Thank you.