The Invisible Spark

Those who would come to kill
Fear we have an invisible spark
Yet it’s our fear that keep us still
And so our light dies in the dark.

In Paris and Beirut and elsewhere
In the midst of all that is terrible
One with another starts to share

That lighting of a spark invisible

Once it’s seen the pursuers’ eyes melt
For they know they will see death’s mark
Conquered by hope and love heartfelt
Kindled by an invisible indivisible spark.

Je Suis Charlie (Freedom of Thought is Freedom of Speech)

Those who wielded the guns at Charlie Hebdo not only wanted to silence freedom of speech.
They wanted to silence freedom of thought.
In both they are mistaken. They don’t understand the power of the pen…
Writing is expressing thoughts and feelings out loud or on paper. Writing is the storyteller’s freedom of thought expressed as freedom of speech.
Writing’s purpose (like other creative activities) is to tell a story. The story’s purpose is so the reader may see or feel or think or hear or smell or touch something they knew or didn’t know differently.
It doesn’t matter if the story doesn’t touch that reader. It doesn’t matter if the story has not changed the reader’s thoughts or feelings or opinions. It doesn’t matter even if the reader hasn’t been changed. It’s too late for that.
All that matters is that thought has been freed.  All that matters now is that the reader comes face to face with a new thought.  And the reader has to deal with that challenge.
It’s that freedom of thought that scares those who wielded the guns. They fear that freedom of thought will challenge their beliefs and find them wanting. They must be at least unsure.
Je Suis Charlie (Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Thought).

What Do I Call You Again?

Some terms for addressing women and the pitfalls thereof:
Girly? Is this rural Australia in the 1950’s?
• Madame? No I’m not the proprietor!
• Mistress? No I’m not one of those!
• Missy? Am I a spoil brat throwing a tantrum?
• Princess? Nice try but you’re no Prince!
Miss? I’m not ninety, single and living with my sister!
• Mrs? I’m not at home with the kids!
• Ms? Don’t objectify me as a radical feminist!
• Madamoiselle? I’m not French and we didn’t meet in Paris!
Lady? Are you a taxi driver in a movie?
• Your ladyship? Your Lordship? Indeed Not!
Which leaves only Ma’am (I was taught that at school). But then are we on the set of Gone With The Wind?
So what do I call you again?