Traveling Light – A Nice Arrangement

I have a rather nice arrangement with my Creator.
I sit in my private little corner of the room, breathe in depth,
bring my mind to single priority, let thoughts pass through –
(mind is the sovereign host, the thoughts merely guests).
No one gets thrown off my train of discourse, only saboteurs, all others remain.

All concerns which come, any panic, any drama, any sadness,
any desires, wishes, debts of gratitude, longings, all this
I bring, greet as real, feel, and give it to Him, breathing in depth.
He gives me immeasurable joy in return, strength to reach 150.
My cat comes and joins me, remains as we breathe in depth.
Traveling light, I've nothing to buy nor to sell, neither ideology nor religion.
It's 2:30 am, I've slept, I have days off; job is good, as are breaks.
My work is 24/7, no breaks, but inspiration is constant, active or in repose.
Work is always better than none, sloth is what kills.

It's nine hours earlier in California, also a constant.
My granddaughter there has just celebrated her 4^th birthday,
she and her little sister don't know I exist, but I know they do.
That suffices to hold her, them, in my priority, breathing in depth.
If you choose to stay inside and eschew all sunlight, so what –
the sun could give a shit, it sends its warmth out anyway.
Sun is sovereign without judgement, cat comes and shares priority.

If no one reads this, it still gets written; if I don't get my way, so what –
I am free to think, to dissent, to give and take criticism, to remain constructive.
I am free to love, to reflect, to intervene where it's my business to, or to fight.
I am free to breathe deeply, to hold priority.

The self-proclaimed "Antifa" – the Stormtroopers of the day, indulged darlings,
communist-wannabes with Che-banners from another decade – these enjoy
a nice arrangement as well: perennial students with nice digs, no job no need,
atheistically multi-culti by ideology (no conviction), politically-correct and violent.

For their ceaseless aggression and staged slogan-frothing, property destruction,
open defamation, attacks on person and possession, welcoming mass suicide
of their own native democratic society which pampered them. They have
rather a nice, paid arrangement with all the Parties and Lobbies of the dominating Left:
the Greens, The Left, Pirate, the mainstream SPD, and what oddly still calls itself CDU.
These hoodlums are ever on retainer, maintained by a gangster-regime in Parliament.

What do I care? Is this a popularity contest? So what, if I'm a "racist, xenophobic,
homophobic, Islamophobic, patriarchal Nazi"? What a joke. But as it is a joke
which happens to rule, I happen to care. Germans, like the Swedes, have no say
in the matter, "refugees" who aren't are compared with Himmler's Jews, invited
by a Chance-Liar to come and repopulate here, to assuage a Hologram of Guilt
which no one wants to heal. Sure I care, I came to see just that healed.

And I sit now, breathing in depth, my cat purring in confirmation,
she looks at me, regarding me with love from the Natural Kingdom,
reminding me to travel light – it's a nice arrangement.

The Love Which Rules Me

This love is more exotic, more erotic, yes,

than all the lore can contain;

more sumptuous and more voluptuous,

and simpler it is, plainer as well, I'll explain:

Rich in color and in tones, this love,

humble as a mendicant, majestic as his staff;

natural as a baby's breathing life,

aged as a crone who can rage and can laugh.

Enfolding you within its wings, as it embraces me,

the lion and the lamb in one;

it moves – and moves within, this form as free

as it commands, and guides, and calls me son.

At sixty I remain in debt to all who brought me here,

the love that was in me invested shall not have been in vain;

still as a pond, roaring like cascading river:

life-giving force, of never-ceasing inspiration.