Welcome to Day Thirty-One – already the final day of Just Jot It January, where the theme is: “detritus.” It’s been a delicious adventure, and I want to keep on. I’ve even gotten this crazy idea to follow John Holton’s example, and blog every day this year. At any rate, I’ll be participating in Ritu’s impromptu #Loveuary, where I’ll be bringing back my favorite fan fiction couple, and letting them offer you a tiny little snippet of their stories each day.
And here’s the fun part:
If you want to be part of my fun, you’re welcome. All you have to do is lead me a word or words, and I’ll add them to the pool I’ll use as writing prompts for the month. Bonus points if you pick something that might not seem easily reconciled with a science fiction story.
If you add words, I’ll let you know when I use any of yours!
But enough about next month; it’s now time to finish out this one. The following was jotted in my journal at about 11:30AM today:
A Hawk for Peace
There’s a hawk inside the dove; a hawk for peace.
The above is the beginning of a poem…I don’t have the rest yet, but it’s taking shape within me, like a baby gestating in its mother’s womb.
I am a fertile seed, and the detritus of hatred, rage, and pride without merit are the rich soil I’m growing in.
Because there’s a power in despair, in seeing something happening that menaces and dismantles decency, and in knowing that there may not be a way to immediately stop it, or even to slow it down.
We know there will be fallout (and we hope it won’t be nuclear).
We know there will be human casualties – of body, mind, and spirit.
Kindness doesn’t enter this picture; the humane is subverted; it’s drowning beneath the slogans, rhetoric, code words, and lies.
Together, they form a thick sucking sludge that wants to tear away what is good and sweet and decent in us, and make it something other.
But we don’t need to become hopelessly mired in the muck…
Because that muck, that stinking waste already spewing forth?
All it needs are pockets of opportunity, hope, and potential.
I am a seed of humanity. And I am not alone.
We can plant ourselves thick in that soil.
Add some soaking rains of nurturance; the sunlight of warmth and fellowfeeling, and the attentive care of conscious intention.
From this excretment will grow something both beneficial and meaningful.