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ONTOGENY
RECAPITULATES PHYLOGENY
Yes, Yes, I know -- but the question is
Why?
Why should, why must ontogeny
Recapitulate phylogeny?
Why do some cells,
early in the
night-dark womb,
Learn sensitivity -- to light?
Follow the Path -- to being eyes?
Was it God? Did He say,
"Yes, Yes, the Path that
was
billions of years
a-making.
Follow that Path!
Fins: become arms, become
hands.
Gills: get thee lost,
when
lungs are found.
Neurons: follow the
Path:
Hook up
together!
Follow the trail -- to the
Grail --
Become
the Brain!
Follow the Path, all the
way."
Then a baby -- in our case, a human --
A child is born.
But: Why stop there?
Why stop there, indeed?
Build thee a new Path -- for the Others
who come after -- to
follow.
Arden R. Benson
March 27, 2006
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THE FIX
What if a man or a woman came to me
And asked for some money badly
needed,
And I gave that person five dollars --
(Easy come, easy go)
Guessing by her/his eyes that the money
Would pay for (or go toward?)
A fix.
Need I rue, need I regret
That gift?
Not at all.
Every Sunday, at Eastrose,
We ask the Spirit of Life
To bring to our hearts:
Compassion.
*
Arden Benson ©
February 25, 2006
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| AMERICAN DREAM
Where is that world, the American Dream,
In which we were the Good Guys, a bright gleam
In the world's eye? Yes, some other nations
Had secret prisons, death squads, torture
stations.)
We had none of that. The United States
Of America stood tall among the greats
Of the present and of the past -- Awaken,
Citizens! Reclaim that dream, lest ye be
taken
Somewhere else . . .
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FREEDOM, 3000 a.d.
At last! There is freedom for mankind
alone!
But -- you man, and you woman, why do you groan?
You have won. (You should surely have
known,
There's both triumph and sorrow
In mankind's tomorrow.)
Take the long view: that chaotic stew
Of species is now but a few.
(Most of the mammals, the small and the great,
Did learn of their fate. For them, it's too
late.)
Trees died, and then the dunes grew.)
Yet, in the abysses
There still may be fishes
Which might be delicious.
Let that thought give you hope.
Let it help you to cope,
As at last you confess
To the great loneliness.
Arden Benson ©
January 17, 2006
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BUTTERFLY
It is a butterfly
It does not fly straight
To where it is going.
It flutters
Obliquely, up and down;
Laterally.
Sometimes it gets there.
What is its name?
Its name
Is Love.
Arden Benson © 4-15-2006
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ON LISTENING TO JOHN LENNON'S
"IMAGINE"
Indeed:
What if all the people living in the world
Woke up; the banner of their mind unfurled --
And they knew, they understood full well,
That there was no Heaven, no God, no Hell.
If they saw those billions of billions of stars,
Most of them Suns, a lot like ours --
Were a Universe, maybe out to Infinity,
Having no need for any Divinity. . .
If they knew that their personal thoughts
and their actions
Were their own -- that denominational factions
Meant nothing: no God nor any spirit arcane
Could add to their blessings, or
lessen their pain --
We humans might live
for
our own common good;
Or at least -- you and I
might
hope that we would.
Arden Benson © May 27, 2006
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| THE BILLBOARD
I thought I saw a billboard, down there in the
hollow.
Upon it sat two ravens; between them perched a
swallow.
The background was bright purple, the lettering in
gold.
(Those two were magic colors, or so I have been
told.)
I struggled to be closer, and this is what I
read:
(The colors now were blended with a subtle
shade of red.)
"Prepare To Meet Thy God, Atop Yon Highest Hill!"
(Could I be blamed for feeling a head-to-toenail
chill?)
"You can meet Him face-to-face, upon the stroke of noon
--
Please do not be a minute late, nor yet a minute
soon."
I checked my watch. It seemed the climb would not be
very easy.
I drank my coffee. Now at least my insides were less
queasy.
I hiked and climbed. It seemed to me the blazing
sun
Was telling me my ordeal had only just begun.
At ten-till-twelve I stopped, my aching bones to
rest.
(And I was easily ten minutes to the crest.)
I climbed again and reached the top just at the noontime
stroke.
A thunderclap! The voice of God! Just at that
time, He spoke:
"Turn to the right and look!" (His voice seemed very
kind.)
How odd it was, that moment. I had become quite blind.
Arden Benson © June 1, 2006
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TO EASTROSE
AT FIFTY
from
EASTROSE AT ONE
HUNDRED
It is so wonderful, so magical,
To speak to you, via Tele-Time,
From our year, 2056, as we celebrate
Our Eastrose Centennial!
Dear forebears,
We have travelled a long road,
And there have been some changes
Made.
First of all, we've changed our name.
It's "Eastrose Arose" now. E.R.A. -- U.U.
How did that happen, you may ask.
Well,
When property values on our street
Went up another thousand dollars
An inch,
Some of us said, "Let's move!
Let's move to Estacada. It's easy now,
With the new subway."
But most of the congregation said, "No!
We want to stay in West Gresham!
Especially,
Now that we have expanded our building,
And put in our own Shuttle
To the MAX."
What must we do? The answer came
As in a dream.
"Let us build our Fellowship
Upward!" And it was done.
We are seven stories high, now.
The first two are for parking;
The seventh, our Great Hall,
And below that, R.E.
With an indoor playground.
Floors three, four, and five
Pay for the entire enterprise,
And more.
We lease them for corporate offices.
Companies clamor for them --
So close-in --
To Portland, Parkrose City,
And the Theme Park
At Estacada.
Withal, dear forebears, we remain true
To Unitarian-Universalism's great mission:
To seek, and to honor the search
For truth and wisdom in every aspect
Of our physical, and of our spiritual
Lives -- and to find, wherever we can --
Love.
And so we greet you and we thank you,
Eastrose Fellowship of fifty years ago,
For your most magnificent
Start!
Arden Benson © November 2006
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