• Posted: Jan 31, 2015 10:23:32
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Cold and gray it is, fog and misty too. Wind is rising, temps are falling. Light is fading. Melting snow has crusted over. Thin ice on slushy puddles shatters with heavy angry foot falls. Impatience is rising. Frustration is growing. And yet, the somber river flows.
Steely cold, no pause, no break, forever passing humbled houses, shuttered against the cold and damp, home to worried grownups, and children reticent and mum. Too many the bills, too few the choices. And all the while, paint is peeling, larders edge toward empty, and furnaces yearn for fuel.
Koch and company proclaim, "So what. We are not our brother's keepers. What's ours is ours. This is the land of freedom. Here you get what you do earn. Nothing more is due. And a billion we pledge to keep it so. Only God himself can change our tune."
What good are profits if empty souls and hollow lives result? Ask any farmer and he or she will tell. The only way to get is to give. You sow, you work the land, and then you reap. In balance, the process lasts far longer than human's lives. But rape the land and it stops giving back. And no amount of mean or well intend coercion can change its tack.
Those less humble than folks along the river, think whence your riches really do come from. Everlasting bounty is come from balanced give and take. Not ever from exploit and leave to founder along the river's bank. That is the way of nature, and of He or She who made it so. Break the balance and no billion or trillion will keep you whole.
Ask any farmer and he or she will tell. The only way to get is to give. You sow, you work the land, and then you reap. In balance, the process lasts and lasts, far longer than lives, either yours or mine.
Tuesday, January 14th, 2014