Tuesday, December 30, 2014

“In The Same Light of Day”

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Greetings All:

This is likely my last blog post for the year.  There were many stories that dominated the news.  Perhaps the most troubling is the matter of Ferguson/NYC deaths.  There are no easy answers.  Hell, I don't pretend to even know how to properly frame the question.  Instead, I offer this poem.  It's my way of trying to begin to figure out where we are as a society and where we need to go.

As the year closes, I do deeply appreciate everyone who has read my blog, commented on it, shared it or liked it on Facebook.  I encourage you to share your thoughts.  Blogging has brought a "democratization" of opinion writing to the world.  If you've got a blog, please let me know about it.  If you've ever thought about writing, then, to echo Nike, "just do it."  If you're wondering what to write about, recall the wisdom of Mark Twain:  "Write what you know."  Or how about this:  write what you are feeling.  It's what I have attempted with this poem.

"In The Same Light of Day" by Jeno Berta

A winter morning, wrapped in cold.
Through the murky sky, pale light strains to be seen.
Black gives way to gray.  Gray yields to a feeble beige.
Trees, mere shadows moments ago, stand stout in the birthing light of day.
Stoic in the absence of leaves, they are regal nonetheless.

From my window I see the day arrive, announced by the rising sun.
Feeble beige no more, it is a mighty gold!
Behold the day, our day.

To the south, the same day dawns,
In the city of Ferguson.

And in the East, the same day greets another city.
I wonder if my friend Henry is shining shoes on 8th Avenue?

If we are a trot, that city is a sprint. 
What city, you ask?
Why New York, of course.

Three places- Ferguson, New York and us, living here.
Our homes, hugging both banks of our river.
Different?  Sure, in some ways.
In many ways, I suppose.

And yet, we have much in common.
We have hopes and fears, dreams and goals.
We work and strive, laugh and cry.

Our hearts break for grieving loved’ ones.
We boil in rage at the senselessness of it all.

We want answers, demand them really.
Why, WHY are things so out of control!
We want justice, we want peace.

But that, like the summer warmth, seems so far away.

Yet perhaps having the sun, the same sun, is enough.
Enough for us to find some common ground,
In the same light of day.

Be well my friends (& Happy New Year!)

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