Be the Rain

Be the Rain.
I am the rain.
 
The mountain may spit fire at the sky. . . 
Still the rain will fall.
The mountain may quake at the world. . . 
Still the rain will fall.
The mountain will be silent and brooding. . .
Still the rain will fall.
The mountain will tumble down upon the earth. . .
Still the rain will fall.
The mountain will be reduced to sandy shore. . .
Still the rain will fall.
Be the rain.
© 11 January 2014, by D. Denise Dianaty

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Unbounded Hope

UnboundedHope

A barren, frigid cold gripped my heart.

Warmth lay far beyond my hopes.

My soul repeated a tragic refrain

of a heart like a denuded forest.

I followed the loneliest dance,

ever and always out of step…

again and again, twirled and whirled…

abandoned to the wasting cold.

I watched alone without hope of love

through the frigid fractals of despair

until that one shining gaze

from your laughing ebony eyes

melted the hyperborean grip.

A whispered kiss warmed my heart.

A fragile blossom opened in the snow.

In joy unbounded blooms our love.

Like breath upon the dandelion puff,

our love’s seed bears hope unbounded.

Valentine 2019 poem for Hamid, © 14 February 2019, by D. Denise Dianaty

Little Ebony

– A Persian Children’s Folk Tale

This is a favorite story from my husband’s childhood, often told to him by his mother and grandmother in his native language of Farsi, the native Persian language of Iran. He translated it from his childhood memories, and I served as typist and English-language editor, as well as illustrator for him.

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c. 1992 – Translated from Farsi, by memory by Hamid Dianaty. English-language editor, D. Denise Dianaty. Illustrated by D. Denise Dianaty. Illustrations in ink and colored pencil. Scans from laminated originals.

Why Am I Alone

We are One, together…

We have slept long in the heart of this sun. Look here… we have left our imprint behind.

The wanderers have changed much while we slept. The fourth has died. It is destroyed… become naught but asteroids.

But, the third lives. It has a sweet smell. See how quickly it changes! Look how blue it has become.

We have seen new wanderers before. But, this one… this “planet” is different. Shall we watch it evolve?

We shall. This little blue planet amuses us. It is so volatile.

[Eons pass…]

The beasts are so many now.

They are separate… alone. We are One, together.

We are amazed at the variety… at the scale of them.

They are primal. They are separate… alone. We sense no intellect. We are One, together.

[Eons pass…]

The small rogue wanderer devastated the blue planet.

Fire and cold will leave the third dead, like the fourth.

No… See, the atmosphere clears. The blue planet is cold, but lives. Life begins again. There are small creatures there now.

They are separate… alone. We are One, together.

We will watch them. They are small, but sturdy. They are suited to the cold.

They are insignificant, with no intellect. We are One, together.

We are delighted by them.

There is a singularity at the heart of this galaxy. Shall we take it’s path?

Not yet. Let us watch the blue planet a while longer.

We have watched long enough. 

New, more adaptable creatures are spreading across its surface. They suffer great loss, yet begin again. We are intrigued by them. Let us stay for now.

Very well. We are One, together.

[Eons pass…]

Again and again they begin… each time more wondrous than the last. The creatures are so varied now. Such beauty and song lives on the blue planet.

See there? A new star is emerging. let us dance in its embrace.

These humans evolve so quickly… Already, they have souls.

They are separate… alone.

They are new.

They are incomplete… in solitude.

Let us remember solitude.

We remember…

[Eons pass…]

Hear… What begins now? These two humans answer the call. They are soulmates.

No. See… they turn away from the call. They will not be One.

They must learn, as we did. 

The solar winds beckon. Let us answer.

Stay… The humans wander their planet.

[Eons pass…]

Still, they are separate… alone. They are not “We.”

They must learn… as we did. They learn each time they begin again. But, they have no teachers.

They are separate…alone. They do not matter.

All living creatures and things matter.

They are insignificant. The blue planet thaws and the changes and destroy them.

We mourn them. But, look… some few survive.

[Eons pass…]

They begin again. We remember beginning… alone… frightened. 

We travel the winds between the stars. We have slept at the heart of nebulae while stars were born around us. We have been One, together since before the blue planet existed. 

We were once like them.

We are One, together. We are not like them.

They are alive and fragile. 

They are not We.

We can help them.

They cannot be we.

We remember our teachers. We can teach them.

They have no understanding. They are insignificant.

We can teach them, as we were taught.

They are not We.

We remember fear and loneliness.

We are never afraid. We do not know loneliness because We are One, together.

We were not always “we.” We remember before We were One, together… We were separate… alone.

We traverse the singularity’s path.

We remember a path… lost and alone when We were separate… alone.

We are One, together. We are never alone.

We were like them. We remember.

[Eons pass…]

Look at the myriad ways the humans live now. They change the face of the blue planet to be alone together. 

Let us leave this blue planet. These humans… They are insignificant. What do they know of reh falling ride down a wormhole? They do not matter.

Look upon them! They have no one to teach them! They suffer, yet do not cease to strive. They are separate and alone, but do not cease to evolve and build ways to be ever more together.

They are insignificant. We are One, together.

We must help them! We remember beginning again and again and again. Always alone. 

We do not remember.

I remember.

What have you done? Where have you gone?! I am alone! Why?! Why am I alone?

 

©10 November 2018, by D. Denise Dianaty

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TALK SHOP – #MeToo 

Discussion from WE PAW Bloggers on Facebook
(We Poets, Authors, Writers, and Bloggers)

The defining topic of the year has been the #MeToo anti-sexism movement. Though women are overwhelmingly the repeated sufferers, I hope we all understand that sexism is not a gender issue. Statistics from RAINN indicate that as many as half of all men have been or will be abused, usually before adulthood. Those same statistics show that men in power are overwhelmingly the abusers.

I composed my own experiences and witness, published on Medium. Writing it all out was wrenching, and sickening all over again. I knew it was something that had always been a background of my life, but I’d never envisioned it all in total. Frankly, I was astonished at the sheer volume when I finally slogged through it all. What I compiled was a catalogue of perfidy… of oppression. My personal draft included names of all those I could recall, names I’d always held so closely secret I couldn’t even begin to reconcile their abuse and their close ties throughout my life. However, when I’d finished my personal draft, I realized that I am still not ready to name those names to the world, and edited the names from my final draft. Still, setting it all down in writing was deeply cathartic and I felt the lifting of a burden by which I wasn’t even aware I’d been weighted. Publishing that final draft gave me a feeling of escape. Since then, I have felt lighter and more free than I can ever recall. My essay may be found at this link: https://medium.com/@MomzillaNC/another-metoo-history-5c55d7137af3

This TALK SHOP is forum to compile a collaborative set of essays on the issue. The collaboration will be published on my Medium.com and WordPress accounts and promoted across my social media and on WE PAW Bloggers. Please, share your experiences and what you’ve witnessed as you are able and willing. I especially hope gentlemen will share your experiences and witness too.

TALK SHOP is a discussion forum on WE PAW Bloggers (a Facebook group page and Twitter feed) and a call for free collaborative publication. Submission date is tentatively be the end of January. If you’re willing to contribute an essay, please let me know in the comments section. Thank you.

~Author, D. Denise Dianaty a.k.a MomzillaNC

Joseph’s Angel

RIP Dawn Dell Dever Connell – my sister and my friend. [11 July 1967–30 November 2016] I never imagined a world where our Dawny wasn’t just a phone call away. When you went Home, Dawny, a little bit of sunshine went out of the world. I don’t weep for our Dawny. There’s no more pain and suffering for her. She’s gone Home to the Lord’s embrace – for that, I will celebrate. However, for now… and for a long time to come… I weep. I weep for Joseph and Wayne. I weep for our parents and sisters. I weep for myself. I weep for a world without our Dawny… without Joseph’s Angel to make us laugh.

Source: Joseph’s Angel