Hurt Transitory

Hurt Transitory

A shadow dot moves across the sun. The innermost planet, Mercury, is transiting. It is throwing its huge little shadow across us, two planets out.

Fallen Rome left us wisdom in her death throes: Sic [Thus] transit [it passes,] gloria [the glory] mundi [of the Earth].

¿Que pasa? ask my Hispanic friends. And one answer was my junior college newspaper, El Tiempo Pasando.

Children are wasting away in at least three global regions. Something is frightfully wrong with the way various influencers are conducting themselves, since this very moments there is so much abundance of foodstuffs that no one on Earth need go hungry.

Some of us hurt, and some of us want to hurt others of us. “That is the way of the world,” we hear. But the world is brave, and the world is new, and the way of the world is as it has never before been.

¿Que pasa?

It it up to us billions.

Today I sculpted a chess-piece perched bird, a pawn, the pawn that remembers Emily Dickinson’s description of Hope as “the thing with feathers.” And if my pawn of Hope makes her transition to the other end of the chessboard, she may transform,

Actualize,

And free us.