Progress

If I look out from this mountain top I can see history twist and wind along the skin of the earth, old roads leading to new ideas.

I see mothers backs carrying children, I see horses carry riders, covered wagons, smoking trains, noisy model T's, quiet street cars, humming buses and the winding sing of a motorcycle zipping along pavement at 110.

Here simple people with humbly simple lives collected along the river banks walking with mindful gratitude for the harvest offered by the Mother. Simple abundance was the mantra that served them.

I see busied people who live under the sky but never notice the clouds, they rush about like the builder ants after a rain and I wonder if they have lost the ability to smell spring arriving.

We are a new species grown from the the sacrifices of our ancestors, we with our new abilities never needed before, bred for speed and intelligence ,doing unintelligent things, dependant on the whole, freedom sacrificed for convenience and ever competing to have it all.

We starve at the breast of our Mother because we no longer recognise her face, no comfort can be found at her touch, we are hard and we are lost in the illusion of technologies abundance.