My Most Black Swan Dreams

Black Swan - an unpredictable or unforeseen event, typically one with extreme consequences

If I could apologize to everyone I should, I’d gladly take all the time that I would need

Should there be a way for me to find just a little grace, you can bet that I would surely seek it

Give me but the time to practice a bit of mercy and I would become quite accomplished

If there was a way to thank all those helping me so invisibly, why, I would do it publicly

If I could stop my organic wastes from ever again polluting, you can bet I would

If it could only be, I would not generate any more plastic trash

Were there another way, my car would not belch a single molecule of CO2

If it were possible, these soaps and creams of ours would not harm those graceful fish

If I could stem our swarming, destructive overpopulation, why you know, I just might

I would gladly ban the wasteful, foolish, childlike religious practice known as war

I could happily do without soulless widgets of factory holocaust meat, given tasty alternatives

If possible, I would even turn off every wasteful, paranoid night light, just to see the stars

I would generate my own clean power right at home, given a real opportunity

If I never had to commute to work again, that would suit me just fine

Where can I buy but things not made by far off wage slaves working 14 hour days?

If I could make the choice, my lawn would not be merely an expensive, wasteful, poisonous carpet

If I could only make it so, I would decree that my greed become quite a bit less wasteful

With the right opportunity, I could possibly gain just a touch of humility

Given half a chance, I would tax all forms of noise above a certain decibel

If I would ever run for office, no one else but me would be writing my speeches

If someone like me could become a tabloid star, this would not be the world that we know so well

Should I get elected, neither party nor lobbyist would get to call my dancing tune

When I would finally stop trying to be different, I could start to make a real difference

If I could give up everything, I might finally see how much excess I actually have

If there was a way, I would stop up my lame complaining with a little real work

Should the greedy not take such cynical advantage, I could volunteer more time

You would see a different person if I could just view things in a different light

If I could shed my love of violence, I might find some small trace of tranquility within

If we knew our fathers, generations back, perhaps we would not scorn all the elders

Should I actually find something to say at last, I might lose my fear of silence

Given a new religion, I would put my vast but unused reservoir of faith to some good use

If I had some real reasons, I could dispense with all of my half-baked excuses

If it were just left up to me, I would try and slow this fleeting blur

If I could but begin again, I’m certain I could correct all the errors of my pride and folly

If I finally became conscious, I’d undo all the damage I have so thoughtlessly brought forth

If I lost my voice but had learned but a single song, I bet I could hum it silently, forever

Quietly Late Last October

Autumn paused just for a moment amidst the golden sunshine

Held its breath and listened before quickly disappearing

The warmth of those late October afternoons was far sweeter

Knowing well how cold rains would fill the dark days to follow

After the salmon had spawned and little remained for the bears

There came a subtle pause as their noses twitched in that pure air

With waterfowl departing and the streams low and very clear

Dying leaves began their gentle drifting down, to fertilize the ground

Echoes also grew fuller with the lengthening of our shadows

The morning sun greeted us later and the stars came out so soon

The harvest moon looked warm but we reached for our sweaters

The hunters finished their epic drinking bouts and returned to their jobs

Quietly late October removed her costume and set aside her lovely jewelry

Slowly revealing a deeper and more somber aspect of her beauty

Silence filled the early mornings until the remaining birds shook off the frost

The sky grew deep and blue awaiting the first of many storms to come

Dust motes gathered to float one more time before falling with the rains

The fingers of the boys grew cold as they pedaled off upon old bikes

Rivers thirsted for the many long and quenching, cleansing winter rains

Craggy peaks awaited the deep, white blankets of their heavy snows

In sunlight and shadow she paused as a faded memory was awakened

The true smell of wool and a crackling dry campfire sustained him now

The raucous crowds of summer fled with the warmer weather

And that good silence flowed off into the void again, for minutes at a time