The world is on fire. This is always the case. There are forever wars and rumors of war, famine and strife, brother turning against brother -- and sometimes all of them happen at once. This week, with the floods, and the fires, and the political upheavals, my heart has been heavy. I've wanted alternately to act and to hide, to write checks and to dive under the blankets. But the blankets are no place for revolution, and if you don't at least carry the water you have been given, the flames will never dissolve.

At Stonhenge on Solstice the sun crested over softly arching hills, struck the blue-hued Heelstone, and drove its light between the arches of the great trilithon. Hundreds were there in dreadlocks and druid robes, smelling of travel and patchouli, trying to name something unnamable, making it up as they go along. Isn’t that what we all do? Cobble something together from shards of history and intuitive pull? Look for the meeting point between what we know and what we hope to be true?

In my heart,I hold a memory. My Grandmother is in her early 80's. We have come across the state to see her, picking her up at her retirement center and driving her across the street for lunch at Applebees. She has ordered steak, and a margarita, and white wine. It is 11:30am. Grandma's hands are gnarled by arthritis, so I help her cut her steak. She weighs about 99 pounds these days, but she eats with relish. "Ummm.This steak is so good. Ummmm! Can I try your shrimp? "

There are lines of poetry so powerful, so soul shaping that one must carry them in one's memory -- or at the very least post them on the corkboard in the kitchen; or tuck them into the little clips holding up the bathroom mirror so everyday the poet can console or confront you while you clean your morning-and-night teeth. These poems are what I have come to think of of as "plainsight poetry," that is, verses which must be kept at easy access. The one I most need now is this:

Poets were my first priests, and poetry itself my first altar. -Mary Karr Since the Enlightenment Era we've been very busy pursuing knowledge--and correspondingly with arguing over which group has cornered the market on getting-it-right. Now that we've moved into a post-enlightenment, post-modern millennium, many of us are realizing that facts are slippery creatures. Suddenly our perspectives shift and we see that what is true for you is so very often not true for me...or the other way around...or both things in the same breath-taking moment.