Something Of Value

"If a man does away with his traditional way of living and throws away his good customs, he had better first make certain that he has something of value to replace them. "

~ Basuto proverb

This is a different kind of post, but maybe not.

We've been losing our history, by choice.

Everything now seems to come down to feelings and outrage, seen through a lens of current academic thinking, without context or grace. Washington and Jefferson are reviled, the Lincoln and FDR monuments are vandalized, Martin Luther King is dismissed as an Uncle Tom.

There's a movement, with support in the government, to dynamite Mount Rushmore.

Terrible for society, but worse when done to ourselves.

Here at a twilight that will not see another dawn in this world, I look back on the day.

I made mistakes

Lots of mistakes, some of which tempt me to brand that person I was as selfish, egotistical, and sometimes downright cruel.

Worthy of being cast into the outer dark, unloved, unwanted.

And yet... that person is a part of what I am now. The judge I am almost longing to become is a wounded hyena, snapping at his own entrails.

I can't afford that kind of self-destruction, not with my audience in the Throne Room so very near.

I have to offer grace, forgiveness for wrongs, and recognition for what was done right, or at least done to the best of my ability.

True for me.

True for America.

We live at end of history,
and little now remains

of Manifested Destiny

and The Plow That Broke The Plains.

Washington was racist,

and Lincoln, criminal,

San Juan Teddy fascist,

and JFK just dull

for his failure to admit

that the past's not real

and can blithely be rewrit

on lines of how we feel,

and MLK and Colonel Custer

stand side by side at final muster.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is POSSIBILITY.

Is there yet possibility

this land won't find its grave,

we'll turn back to civility,

and America be saved

from those who would tear, destroy

from their place within

with any tool they can employ;

but where do we begin?

There are no brazen charioteers

on rescue-ride down yonder hill;

no, if aid may still betide

if has to come from will

and from what we choose to do;

it's up to us, friend, me and you.

Well, five minutes minus a couple seconds, and on the same topic.

Like a pat of butter, I'm on a roll.

Music from Jesus Jones, with Right Here, Right Now. A song from a better time.

Sylvia values ice cream.