Our Evolving Force

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Recorded Reading: https://www.dropbox.com/s/d59w3d9x20tjnex/Our%20Evolving%20Force.mp3?dl=0

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Our Evolving Force

Like it or not ~ stubbornly insist that nothing ever changes or not ~ change is an element absolutely built into everything we do.

Just as well ask a plant not to grow or a river to stop smoothing its banks as to ask the flow of human history to cease its headlong hurtling into its own future!

Being now in her mid sixties, this poet can remember when quite a few things were quite different.

Nobody had even thought about regarding this planet as a home which might require maintenance and cleansing.

If a person of any degree of lovely color appeared on a campus of higher learning, they were looking very uncomfortable with that word “token” printed across their forehead.

And there were no women electricians. No women in executive positions. No women doctors. No women broadcasters.

For the first wave or two of these, the poet often felt like weeping in commiseration.

They had to fight so hard, they gave up every shred of their femininity, every personal happiness to do so.

In fact, for most of the time since, women in the professions have been advised ~ if they wish to be respected ~ to, basically, act like a man. Dress dark and boxy. Don’t smile or laugh. Wear next to no makeup. No, really: lower your vocal range. It got that far out there.

But not this generation, oh boy, oh boy!

These women are taking their long haired, smiling, feisty and fabulous but still authentically feminine selves into that workplace and ~ in the way of which has been spoken and quoted all throughout history ~ are civilizing and ennobling those workplaces.

And nowhere does this wonderful new reality leap to the poet’s eye more than it does in our amazing young policewomen.

They’re confident, professional, capable, no-nonsense ~ also pleasant and understanding ~ and… they’re… beautiful!

OMG!

This poet would give her eye teeth to have looked on her very best and most careful day the way these ladies look after four hours of dealing with unpleasant situations in the streetside wind!

Petal cheeks!

Flawless liner!

Lovely lashes!

Oh, you GO, laydeez!

Rah, rah, shish cum bah!

Two, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate?

… Officers taking a knee at humanitarian gatherings.

… Demonstrators rushing officers to safety across the lines.

… The public embracing of “opposites” in good-faith attempts to work together…

Hope!

A little hope for us all, right?

But the ultimate crystalization of this soaring evolution in the, so to speak, awareness of our peace officers was for this poet made at a midnight stop somewhere in the Rockies, on her recent eastward run.

The red light had shown all four ways, so the poet had paused, and then driven on. 

“Oh, you know, I’ll talk to them about that,” the absolutely gorgeous lady officer said. “It really has been freezing up in the midde of the night sometimes.”

Shining her light around the little gypsy cart, her next question was, “Do you meditate?”

“Well, yes!” the poet answered in surprise. “Can you tell?”

That wonderful example of what we may yet come to be nodded and smiled:

“I meditate too,” is what she said.

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This poet is physically disabled. Public housing being insufficient to her medical and creative needs, she is presently living, in order to continue working, in her minivan, publishing all of her works using one thumb on the touch screen of her smartphone at an income of a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. She would treasure any donation you might care to offer ~ http://www.UgiftABLE.com ● #72D-31S

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