Welcome.

Welcome

Floating with the sea moving a thousand miles a day
Without understanding of my surroundings
What is there to understand?
All is nothing and nothing is everything

How many turns does the earth make a day
It matters to some and not to all
Many and most truths are like this
Does any single thing matter to all

I think not, even air may be considered expendable by some
For life is not so valuable to all
To them, something else is of value
And they may convince you of it before the night’s end

Still, I must walk along with my two feet
The feet I was born with, which have borne me all this time
We have a history that cannot be repeated nor replicated
This amounts to a truth personal to one

There is more and there is not
What I can say is much and yet I have no words to express the truth
The truth about a frog we may be sure of
Yet the truth of the frog in any context at all, is greatly lacking

And everyone has anxiety and is afraid
Afraid of what? Afraid of who?
Almost nothing I have wanted has come to me
Yet everything that has wanted me has appeared on my doorstep

I have accepted and acknowledged this presence
Lost myself in this sea of new realities
To find I never knew myself
So how could I have known what I wanted?

Yes, I could not.
The hammer may fall twice if the nail is not driven deep
One may not tell the tree what to grow, only pick the fruit that is bore
Welcome

This is the word I use to describe the present moment
Welcome
Welcome to you and your friends
Welcome to me and my feet

Welcome to pain
Welcome to joy
Welcome to despair
Welcome to victory

There is naught else to do
Give up and let the tide decide
Drown and life may come again
Our allies are courage and bravery

When nothing is clear and everything is true
Only the bell of death rings in my ear
And when this bell stops

I hear the silence of life
Serene and convoluted

Welcome.

-Zazzo, a bird wandering in springtime

How can I help?

Through the small acts of good by many unimportant people, by their myriads of unhistorical acts, the good of the world grows. Each day, be aware and give thanks that the reason things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is in great part owing to people who lived faithfully, doing what they might for the world and for others, unnoticed, and then went to rest in unvisited tombs. Let no man or woman suppose that the smallest act of good is wasted. All our help, whatever it be, is needed, and though we know not the time or the manner of harvest, be assured the fruit of every faithful service is gathered in. – An old Hebrew saying