Understanding. It's the most sublime and subtle gift in the correspondence of our society with each other. Without it, our life experiences would involve greater conflict and struggle.

A tribal meme best forgotten. It is the greatest obstacle to genuine empathic interconnection, and an impedance to global humanity. Until all mankind comes into this cognition, patriotism will remain the fracture of human fault lines.

Grey light darkening filled the spaces
Between the trees, and then a breeze
             Sighed cool against our faces:
Our senses awakened to Nature's caresses

Along the sylvan path we made our way,
Towards the gentle murmur of the falls;
Two sibling streams each coursed into a bay,
The brother larger than the sister small:
      From off the track the bridge bisects,
     We thought to capture these prospects.

On the bridge we marked the tangled copse,
   The pup in a papoose;
Out front three dogs upon their leashes strained,
The fourth was large and proud and on the loose.

With twilight's creeping shadow nigh at hand,
The moon did o'er the leafy canopy glance,
And bathed in sapphire-light the old bandstand,
Where only ghosts to ghostly music dance:
     But oh! what joy will summer bring,
    Once waken'd by the voice of spring?

Along the muddy track in quietude,
My thoughts for my companion boldly turned:
  (If I could only dare to take her hand)
To cross that anxious distance my heart yearned.

But I did not the hopeful deed perform,
Too shy was I to ever make the claim;
O rueful heart! My cowardly soul!
Attendants to her ever bright'ning flame:
   Could on our palms true sages see,
   How Fate might weave her ministry?

Thus home we climb'd up steep'ning hill,
   With measured tread to stop our slide;
The evening sky grown dark and chill,
           Upon pre-vernal winds did ride.

(c) Glenn A. Wensley

Remembrance is the book of memory,
By which the past is read in sentiency;
And we each day another page consign,
Or from the 'book' some other time divine:
When woodland scents perfum'd the autumn'd air,
And country scenes were caught in camera-stare;
Fond echo of a day I spent with you - and
Gladly walk again those steps anew.
Pray think no ill toward my wordly art,
It warrants no sigh or stiffened heart,
But thy cheerful eye, or may Heaven start
To weep as many tears it holds stars!
'Tis in the celebration of that day,
This memento of the heart weaves its way.

(c) Glenn A. Wensley