What has become of this blog? Different seasons, different climates. How much we/I owe to steady changes!
I think I know what I want from it now. I want it to be a place I can vent my frustrations regarding the troubles I see with the world. The grand scheme. Scheme is certainly the proper word for it; life and events unraveling or raveling as some masters behind the scenes sneakily pull at the strings.

I want this to be a place we talk about politics, corruption, slavery, innocence, guilt, but also occasionally laughter and flatulence. There has to be room for the silly, we/I have to make room for it. Otherwise it's too dark, foreboding, and false.

Here is a poem in honor of my little one:

Wean Me Gently

Tonight, this final embrace of our bodies

let your last suckle be long,

For those sleepless nights cradling

your head and hands on my alien bosom.

Tomorrow when your small frame wakes

it will be less little and less mine

and it will be for the better;

but for now there is this sound of peace and love--

my heartbeat against your gulps of mother's milk.

copyright Y.Z.