Rage, Rage, Against the Dying of the Light!

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Today, my friends, I want to present the modern-day Yellow Brick Road – Yellow for Cowardice; Brick for Stupidity and Road … well, more like a trail in the sky of missiles hitting Syria and possibly paving the way for global conflict on an unimaginable scale.

On this road are staggering the Tin Man, the Dumbo Donald of US presidential infamy; the Cowardly Lion, British Prime Minister, Theresa May, too gutless to stand up to an increasingly unhinged, Dr Strangelove-look-alike and refusing to seek approval from Parliament for the missile strikes on Syria; and the Scarecrow, France’s President Macron, a Bonaparte wannabe/Little Lord Fauntleroy tagging along behind war criminals bombing Syria hoping to join the Big Bad Asses .

Because, yes, you bomb a country which has been bombed to smithereens because that’s somehow going to put fear and loathing into the hearts of President Assad, President Putin, the leaders of Iran and Iraq, and screw any civilians killed in the air raids.

So let’s bury the hand-wringing and hypocrisy of lives supposedly lost in a recent chemical attack in Syria. There are so many unanswered questions about the authenticity of this so-called attack but action by the three leaders has pre-empted any international investigation of the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth in Syria.

But hell, why bother with the truth that for these three war criminals beating the drums of war is a handy diversion from their own troubles at home: Dumbo,  the legal inquisitions dangling over his head as well as the open corruption of the Republican senators and congress puppets of the billionaire class; May with her austerity measures looking increasingly like screw the many while filling the coffers of the very few in the billionaire class sucking Britain dry; and Macron trying to implement similar measures on behalf of the super-rich in France.

Hey, why not distract from the increasingly difficult task of trying to prop up a failing facade of democracy with a modern gladiators’ show of glitzy missiles, flash missile trails and bright lights of said missiles exploding somewhere in a foreign, strange land where in reality lives don’t matter to the Three Conquistadors of international criminal action because – let’s also not forget – the doors of welcome are closed to the many thousands fleeing Syria and seeking refuge.

These three monsters act as pimps, prostituting themselves at the feet of the military-industrial-energy conglomerates to flog weapons to the likes of Saudi Arabia which is bombing the shit out of Yemen, causing death, starvation and destruction to thousands of people and  killing many, many, many children – yes, real children, but hey! who cares when the dollars are pouring in from arms sales.

And puh-leez, let’s not forget the real basis of the US, UK and France trying to meddle in Syria and get their murdering mitts on the country – gas pipelines. Two are proposed as per the map below:

These are the REAL yellow brick roads – control of resources, always at the basis of wars throughout history and even more so in the era of US, British and European empire-building and empire-protection. And the reason the Western powers are stomping around in a snit is because Russia moved into Syria first and stole a march on those same Western powers who thought they’d corralled Russia in recent years and would get their mitts on the country’s resources and control them. So don’t bang on about Putin being so godawful, because they’re all damned well godawful.

Just let’s remember and repeat Dylan Thomas’ words – relating to old age but just as relevant to the war criminals in the US, UK and France, because their actions could well herald a much more dangerous international situation with the threat of nuclear warfare and a Third World War:

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Love Letter to Planet Earth

 

Let Us Live In Love Peace Paradise On Earth – Poem by Terence George Craddock (afterglows echoes of starlight)

teaching the lesson
love heals
is a difficult task
for adults to absorb,
adults taught punishment
examples not tolerance
in early entire childhood
behavioural control upbringing

the stick the rod taught
harsh discipline might
is right not who is right

let us live in love peace
paradise on earth
does not light
overcome dispel darkness
love is light
waiting to come
into all lives
in all societies

open the heart
sow love
compassion
healing
into the world
break centuries
millennia cycles
of intolerance pain

inflicted

agony

let love rule the world
embrace the beauty of love

Copyright © Terence George Craddock

 

The Grace of Devotion

I was looking through Van Gogh’s vast gift of his artwork to humanity and pondering the fact that, despite all his hardships and lack of financial success while he was alive, this amazing artist persisted with his bountiful, wonderful paintings.

It surely is a reminder to us all that inspiration arises from the Divine, from the creative gifts inherent in us when we incarnate on this earth, and we need to honour that which graces our lives to raise us to our highest selves.

No matter whether we are acknowledged publicly for our creative efforts or whether we are financially successful, as long as we listen to and act upon our inner spirit, when we are true to ourselves, we have lived our lives fully and to the best we can.

Images of Van Gogh’s prolific artwork

Van Gogh’s life – Wikipedia

The Journey – Mary Oliver

I know that this is reprinted many times, but I love this poem by Mary Oliver and wanted to share it again.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice —
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do —
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~ Mary Oliver ~

(Dream Work)

 

Soul Songlines

Soul Songlines – paths of your soul’s journey in this incarnation.

Piglet’s Song

Let’s find a Way today,
that can take us to tomorrow.
We’ll follow that Way,
A Way like flowing water.

Let’s leave behind,
the things that do not matter.
And we’ll turn our lives,
to a more important chapter.

Let’s take the time and try to find,
what real life has to offer.
And maybe then we’ll find again,
what we had long forgotten.
Like a friend, true ’til the end,
it will help us onward.

The sun is high, the road is wide,
and it starts where we are standing.
No one knows how far it goes,
for the road is never-ending.

It goes away,
beyond what we have thought of.
It flows away,
Away like flowing water.

~ Benjamin Hoff ~

(The Tao of Piglet)

Letting Go

Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of fear.

She let go of judgments.

She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.

She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons.
Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn’t ask anyone for advice.

She didn’t read a book on how to let go.
She just let go.
She let go of all the memories that held her back.

She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.

She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn’t promise to let go.

She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer.

She made no public announcement.

She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.

She didn’t analyze whether she should let go.

She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.

She didn’t utter one word.
She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing.
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.

There was no effort. There was no struggle.

It wasn’t good. It wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.

A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her.

And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.

Here’s to giving ourselves the gift of letting go…

There’s only one guru ~ you.

                             Jennifer Eckert Bernau/Rev. Safire Rose (the exact author is uncertain)

The Dreaming Songlines

I had a very vivid dream last night where I was setting out on travels to the far north of Australia with an Aboriginal lass. For some reason, she’d committed a crime, had been fined $7000 and ordered to go to the far north to work.

As she was testing the tyres of our 4-wheel-drive before we drove off, I had the sudden insight that she was being sent to the north as part of a new path for her, one where she was to embrace the songlines she’d come into this incarnation to embody. It was a challenge but part of her path on Earth.

At the same time, I was carrying quite a few powerful crystals and, as I walked around the vehicle, I kept finding more crystals including a beautiful pendant. All these I gathered in the bag I was holding.

I’m still working on understanding this dream but it was so clear and strong, I know it has resonance for me, just gotta be patient in working it out!