From the North-East
A roar sounds and a tumult arises
Swelling onto the black earth of the East
This ragtag band
Green Aloyshas barely budded, wrested with a yawn from their maternal nests
Central Asians galore, those who used to roam free on the steppes, and negotiated with kings
Obdurate pines from a far Eastern peninsula, stiffened by long-suffering
Levantines and Africans, hitchhiked, kidnapped, tricked or bought
Dust of the earth, from which we came, to which we will go
My blood will richen this already rich-black soil
A foreign land, a foreign war
But my blood, and maybe my tomb
Rise, roars the Ruble
Fall, sounds the kopeck
The lifeblood of peoples
Minted in metals
Counted in barrels
Inhaled in vodka
Exhaled in pipes
From the South East,
An Iron Dome clenches its fist
Breaches nor offense does it suffer lightly
Clenching forth with vengeance,
It distributes retribution and might,
Like a mother bear,
Woe to those who are caught in her path.
Children of Issac, children of Ishmael,
Our blood have been mingled
Since time immortal.
Born of one father
Nourished of one land;
Our ties of vengeance
Are thicker than marriage or blood.
Nearby, young princes rear their head
Like Arabian horses, waving their plumes.
The land brings forth its treasures of darkness
Liquid black gold.
Their robes, blinding white, not one speck or stain;
They build their cities on sand
Retain their Bedouin pride
With nary a glance towards their neighbors.
From the Far West,
The earth tremors, a dragon stirs
And rumors of unease vibrate through the land.
Who are these people and from where do they come?
Awakened memories, long buried, seventy years past;
Here, we thought the Pacific had been settled then.
Refined, hammered, reared among the clanking of iron, tin and copper
An ancient world reemerges
Its stories remembered and forgotten, remembered and forgotten,
Weaving forth again in old and new patterns.
Our land bears the scars of its millennia
of humanity: its brightness and darkness, its nobility and folly, its glory and its corruption;
Like paint, its colors have peeled and faded,
Can what is left be renewed?
Memories of glory, memories of ruin
Razed and swept away
Who are we now?
We trust paper the less; we have seen too much.
Gold, iron, steel, and oil is preferred
What can be held with hands
Stowed away
And dug up.
From the South,
Columns of men, women, and children,
Fleeing news of unrest.
Perhaps their roots go deeper into the New World
I wonder what stories have been imprinted.
Hives of men, women and children – families
They buzz with life.
Is this America?
A family from here, a family from there
Unmoored, set loose
Upon the new world.
Just below the Mason-Dixon,
Not many miles from here,
The re-investiture is in the Capitol!
Won by the Art of the Deal
Barrons with their Trump cards
Golden putters, whiffs of Musk
Gilded age fantasia
Guns, Bibles, and revivals
Thunderous preaching, good ole’ boys
Something old, borrowed and blue;
What is new?
The offering platter, freshly minted
$MEME $COIN $CRYPTO$
Which world was I born into
And to which world have I arrived?
Can the world tilt-a-whirl,
Take a spin
Around Mars and return
Like a frisbee
And be caught by a hand?
Why do I feel
As if
Right has become wrong
and wrong, right
White has become black
and black, white…
Is it real at all
Or all in my mind?
Too many stories
Too many lines
Along which lives have been written and hung
In suspense
And is it possible
To have jumped or unwittingly fallen
from one vine to another?
Ah, in the absence of pipes or lettered chemicals
Or an infinite number of neurons,
I simply
Snuggle in a bit deeper
Sip my tea with verve
And watch a world turn and tilt
On its axis.
Disclaimer
This article does not reflect the views or opinions of any organizations affiliated with the author nor does it reflect any political affiliation or contribution by the author or any of her affiliated organizations. The article should not be construed as investment advice offered by the author or any of her affiliated organizations and is meant only to be enjoyed as an academic essay contributing to the free exchange of ideas in the discipline of international relations.