As the bloodlands roil, we hang blue and yellow ribbons

March 11, 2022 I hang blue and yellow ribbons on my lamp post, fake sunflowers in a potted plant.  The bloodlands once more are roiling  and a Jew leads  often warring combatants   into valiant  joint  defense of their historic homeland.   I equivocate about which charity is most deserving of my modest largesse.  My  neighbor cries at  sad tales  and  turns her attention to  her real estate.. Likewise ladies who lunch know me not at all and would consign me to the dead dreams of life  in The Villages without the furry treasures of my heart. I try to accommodate my formidable  friend  who, now like dylan thomas,  has cause to rage against the coming of the night but she cannot be consoled..     I too may be overly judgmental of  the disparate economic divides among us, the  undeserving  rich -  two millionaires , one who thinks I should be interested in his fishing trips with a billionaire and  the other who claims homelessness now that she's sold her mountaintop. Ah, but am I succumbing to the evil which cleverly disguises itself in solicitous innuendo, the recipients apparently not understanding that similar tales are told of them. Our president unites Europe and elicits a glimmer of country over party save when it comes to personal  sacrifice  at the gas pump and reduced choices in the grocery aisles.   The religious continue to build their empires and even the pope now disappoints. Like Einstein I now "  live in solitude which  is painful in youth, but delicious during the years of maturity."    But have I grown into sagacity or merely entered the serenity of the bardo awaiting further adventures?  More likely I am merely Chauncey Gardner occasionally spouting unknowing pithiness while awaiting the Godfather's collapse among the grapevines. But first a hero has arisen and we must live to salute his courage and that of the people everywhere whom he inspires. Or do we just wait to see if his wings melt if he flies too close to the sun?