For lack of use, it languishes
Forgotten, in the back
Once a bulwark
Strong and sure
It withers from attack
Pressed by useless fancies
That came when work was through
Let’s reach, again, for vigilance
And fight the fight, anew
“Where is it,” a mumbled message to no one as the old man bends and, with his right hand methodically scoots the two-tiered circular cupboard thing in the corner (some call it a “Lazy Susan”) looking for, of all things…oatmeal. On and on it turns as his aging eyes gaze into the maze like a prospector hoping for just the slightest glint…of gold. Finally, eventually, in the “not often” spot, he sees it; a tiny flash of color that betrays the container. Soon the quick stuff is bubbling in the microwave. Fiber is on the way. Good boy.
Funny thing about what we use, or don’t. The “often” stuff is in our face. We know how to get it. We know where to put it. Other “items,” however, if not in the “now” category, they get pushed back, out of the way, out of sight, and truly…out of mind.
Well, it appears that some in the lofty seats are a bit disturbed by Tea Parties and other protest rallies. Thinking it odd, or even seditious (what a laugh) they express alarm that “Americans” are finally doing…what they’re supposed to do. In other words; holding their elected “representatives” accountable. But, this isn’t a binge of the fringe; no, it’s a returning to the burning; a reaching back and embracing of the heart fire that moved a patriot’s bloodied and frozen feet. A preserving of the war-weary flag as “the rockets red glare” gave evidence of the enemies malevolent missiles. It’s a back to basics kind of thing and, since we were so distant from it; it seems strange. But, as the unelected elite try to redefine us, try to dismiss and disparage us, let us remember--let us remember as we continue to do what is right--that our inherited freedom does not come from them. They did not bring us here, and their very seats of privilege totter upon pillars of which they have little part, and often disdain.
Back to that Lazy Susan cupboard; if what you wanted wasn’t visible, it meant either it was pushed to the middle or, worse yet, flung to a far corner. My second oldest (now mid-twenties) reminded me that when he was a single-digit tyke we’d sometimes have him crawl into the dark cavern to retrieve the needful thing. Yes, sometimes it takes a child to do it. And oh, that we too would be simple, pure, and vigilant in our pursuit of true liberty.
That’s what I think. How about you? Click comments below…and say.