Those Who Are Awake

There is a morning call to prayer in "The-Religion-Of-Peace" toward every Muslim,
and there is a mourning call to action for those who are awake concerning them.
For those who are awake are not the ones dividing humanity into "acceptable" or not,
but rather the supremacist assertions of Qur'an, Hadith, Sunna, Shari'a, and Jihad.
Those who are awake may counter absurd accusations with absurd reflections,
of "Islamophobic" with "Kafirophobic" or "Islamophile" - to gage the reactions.
But more important still, is undistracted attention on being awake, staying awake.
Even friends may leave, or at least stop visiting.  Pressure to stop, or to fake,
gentle, soft or solid pressure, social or official pressure, media's manipulations
reassure and reassure, contradictions stir, dumbing-down desired for elite's machinations.

Those who are awake owe themselves the honesty, the respect and sovereignty
to think and reflect, include or reject, independent of the stream of the majority.
They owe this to their spouses, partners, children, and what loved ones look to them
for the one sign of integrity in the grave and testing time ahead, not far, that time.
Those awake will learn to feed their wakefulness, strengthen nerves, straighten spines,
give time to prayer, defense and meditation, inform oneself and others, read the signs.
To stand reverently firm and say yes when yes is required, and no when it's no -
this is how those awake recognize and see, the objective compassion to know
where the Zeitgeist is heading and how to respond with courage and faith.
Those who are awake are indifferent to being jeered, cheered or falling from grace.

For only those awake know really what's at stake.

Gopi Crones Awakened

I have been

from time to time

Govinda

to women of advanced years,

or hardly advanced but feeling so;

reminding them with a glance,

a tone, a touch, a kiss –

that they are ever young

and beautiful, brimming

with the fullness of love.

Seeing themselves as homely

I see they’re merely lonely –

looking at their own reflections

using the eyes of this world as a mirror.

I tell them gently, and with conviction,

with the fragrance of that Garden

on my breath:

use me for a mirror, take my eyes

and look again.

I counter “ugly” with snugly, I counter

“Look at my face, it’s old, worn, used-up,”

with

“Not a trace, it’s mature and experienced,

and what’s more,

light is there, and power, and grace –

how erotic is this face!”

The Gopi is awakened in so many forms.