Moody Monday: Post-Christmas Blues

I love my family, my friends, my colleagues, my people. A friend who knows how I feel about celebrating Christmas made me a present anyway — a beautiful coat rack made entirely from salvage. I was touched but it’s still a difficult season for me. We must appreciate each other and I’m grateful for the good fortune with which I’m blessed but my joy is watery, diluted with tears.  You my friends are the bringers of joy inside those tears.

This morning I heard the voice of NPR busily engaged in the normalizing project, talking about Trump and his people as if all was well with the world and we could go about our business as usual.

We may not. It’s imperative that we recognize and hold in our consciousness the fact that we’re on the edge of the precipice and slipping. We must resist, even if that’s all there is for us to do. Even if it’s a only a gesture. Let’s do it together.

Now I wish that Miss Peggy Lee were here to sing this version. Wish I could sing it for you today.

When I was twenty-one
the People marched for Peace
while that year in Viet-Nam
it rained fire from the sky.

When I was fifty-one
as another war
Rained shock and awe
marching feet marched on.

And when all was still
I said to myself

Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
Is that all there is 
To Democracy?

I remember a movement
ninety-nine percent of a nation
demanding a voice
a place at the table.

Then they went away
and I said to myself

Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
Is that all there is 
To the People?

I remember being outraged
by the nasty ignorance
the unapologetic racism
the brutish misogynism
of the man
who would be President

And then he ran
and then he won
And when it was over
I said to myself

Is that all there is?
Is that all there is?
Is that all there is 
To our Outrage?

About neiladaniel

Self published writer of sci-fi, fantasy, poetry, so far.
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