Past Portentous Futures
My past,
part of this present,
yet not desperately all
or I live too mortally
in our past;
still breathing
heart beating
but no other present signs
of hopeful life.
Just so,
this present
part of our future,
yet not all,
Or we have already died
without our Great Promise;
reluctantly
still shallow breathing
heart dissonantly beating
yet without future active hope
for love;
or end of fear for hate.
I did not intend retiring
into this exclusive vicinity
of domestic quasi-therapeutic family
as my end of future,
but this new beginning
when my past
and our extending present
meet in wealthy gratitude.
I learn positive attitude,
avoiding negative acerbic platitudes,
about others less present
to past pathologies
predicating,
but not reliably predicting,
potential full integrity
of Love's healthy co-arising futures.
As I age
my true confessions
and growing quieter celebrations
invite and seek to find
this larger future stage
of immortal themes
for incubating cooperative cakes
not left or right out in Eden's rain
but danced and eagerly devoured inside
outside rappers and rhythmers,
rockers and rollers,
writers and dancers,
performers and story-tellers,
comedians and tragic permacultural operators
lyricists and logists,
whole-group systemitizers and sacred ecologists,
atheists and theists,
competing economists and cooperative empowerers,
concelebrating Win-Win game siblings
enraptured by our own
and others
multiculturing
polypathic
operatic and epic creation
and re-creation,
redemption
and restoration
and reforesting
and polycultural outcome
stories.
Stories
about vulnerable climate pasts
part of this extending present,
but not at all without future hope
within already retiring
co-present re-memories.
Our deepest future stories
share our widest past
articulating each present moment's vast potential
of vulnerability to doubt
for integrity of Love's
great transitioning stage,
cooperatives loaned and borrowing
past patriarchally pretentious
macaronic
anthromale-eccentric
ParadisePromise.
Patriarchal Fundamentals of Spiritual HotCake Baking
left out too long
and fat
in the rain;
not so rich,
not so good.
My LeftDominant past,
part of this present,
yet not desperately all
YangLeft without YinRight
or I live mortally,
and tragically,
in our patriarchal past;
still breathing
heart beating
but no other present signs
of hopeful Matriotic-Patriotic
EquiValent
Life.
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