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Feminism has a new enemy

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FEMINISM -    the belief in social, economic, and political  equality  of the sexes. Although largely originating in the West, feminism is  manifested  worldwide and is represented by various institutions committed to activity on behalf of  woman's rights and interests. Just for something different, I thought I would tackle one of society's biggest sacred cows, feminism. Note, sacred cow, not bull, though some of those bulls might get knocked out during my musings - using strong words, of course, not bullets. I grabbed this simple definition of feminism from the Britannica site, hopefully a woman wrote it but it seems to sum it all up in a few brief sentences - social, economic, political equality and the right to make decisions regarding healthcare, our bodies, employment opportunities, etc. All the things our strong matriarchs have fought for and won in the past 100 years or more. Women now have a stronger voice, and we may even see a woman President in the United States ne
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days of heaven

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days of heaven days like this the blue sky is glimmering natures bliss. thanks for breathe to God I give another moment the chance to live counting blessings one by one all in nature beneath the sun days like heaven yesterday has passed may we enjoy each moment let the summer last today my refrain is, short, sweet and thankful true and ever hopeful in this goodness I will remain
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grasping at the wind

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grasping at the wind in Spring equinox days and longer nights, man counts his achievements over twenty one centuries of civilisation... the ground warms up  seas swell higher and mankind has lost it's kindness. I live by an empty church- the graveyard holds more life. My dog chases a rabbit into wild bushes. and I pick fresh flowers by the headstones. Puffy clouds hold the balance of sunlight and rain,  hail scatters outside new buildings full of neon. But bombs fall from that same sky in the Middle East and children cry in the dirt. But there are still blossoms petals fall at my feet, yesterday a rainbow arced over a highway full of potholes while my car kept moving. I say my prayers, and wait for answers... a fat pigeon sings on my fence. I feel the wind blow warmly through my hair... fulfilling dreams of justice.
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The tree at Mangonui

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 Pohutukawa. Tree of life. Beautiful and grand, idling in the light of approaching dusk, standing sentient, watchful, a guard beside the ocean's shore You hold the pulse of the moon and sea in your arms, the carefree waves that carry salty promises to thee. I stand on shaky rocks. Oh wide and curling waters, I'm at your mercy. I pray under a silent sky of blue. waiting for answers in the shadows,  tangled in the dappled branches, as I clutch the rustling leaves of the Pohutukawa. Tree of  Life.
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I prayed for you last night

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  I prayed for you last night, my Bosom buddy of a lifetime, while driving home in the dark, alone, I felt the tears in my soul, the ones you were shedding for you darling, who now lies ill and wanting. I stopped my car, as anguish clutched my throat, and I cried the sorrow I know you cannot bear. Then I prayed for you again. 💗💖💦😢😘🐝🐕🍓🍒 I drove home fast, last night, wanting to get out of the darkness, yearning for my warm, safe bed. Yet worry chased me up the highway... had I prayed enough? I was soon home,  off that black highway, wrapped in comfort,  ready for sleep, but still, in the darkness of the night, from the sanctuary of my heart... I prayed one last time, for you again. 
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I don't watch the news anymore

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 I don't watch a lot of news, anymore... or read a paper with bold headlines, beating me about the face with gloom, death ricocheting around the globe, storming my brain, filling the air that I breathe which creates a world of pain, for life as we now know it. ❤😒🌠🌋🐸 It makes me blue, the news... red with anger,  black with sadness,  as real life images from the battlefields of families, struggling in the furnace of affliction, bombard me,  until it feels like the end of the world inside my soul. So I quit the news, for golden snatches of peace in my heart... gathering like autumn leaves on the earth, sending glittering rays of hope and solace into my mind. I've blocked that drain, the  misery they call news... with carefree trips to the ocean, walking in the hills, picking handfuls of freesias,  with their heaven sent fragrance that floods my house. I have filtered my internet letterbox, halting the scourge of alerts and highlights. I play gentle music of the heart, kaleido
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The scrappiness of Winter

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  In the scrappiness of winter there is beauty in the garden, glowstick bursts of colour, as if Heaven herself has painted the earth this morning, reflections of hope, inklings of spring. I look to the skies and I see a rainbow of happiness beaming beneath the heavy clouds with a promise of more sun shinings  for the morrows yet to come. I praise winter for the rains while birds sing in barren trees joyous and alive grateful that worms still wriggle and bugs still crawl so there is breakfast again this morning. Yes, the mud still puddles and the clouds try to frown while the clouds begin to part and I wear gumboots outside searching for hope and glory, again, amongst the scrappiness of winter in the garden.
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