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I don’t know man, the weather?

I don’t know man, the weather?

I don’t know man. Issues seem to be being fed to me in a way where I can no longer see the Buddha’s lotus. Constructions of reality by organisations. I can’t see the forest for the carbon offset. But the forest speaks. It has many voices in concert with one another. The bird’s call is not an alarm. Nature speaks. It is a beautiful call. Not all good nor all bad. It might have nothing to do with man-made concepts like morality. Life is rich and way too short, to borrow from all people Sir Mick Jagger. Don’t tear me up. Don’t poison my blood. Again Sir Mick. Strange that rocknroll should make sense, but you know there are times when it really does cut through. Songs are important. Singing is important. If we’re honest with ourselves, the soundtrack to our lives is at least as important as the passing news cycle. That’s much like the weather. Sometimes the weather is brutal. But if we have a song in our heart and a song on our lips, we can endure, while possibly not everything, but at least much. Sing guys and gals. Sing. That’s when humanity shines. Humanity does shine. It’s just obscured a lot at the moment, because we’re living in lockdown with the Media cult our Environment Minister.

©Malachi Doyle 2021.

Photo by Mikey Maginness


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