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By David Glenn Cox There are news stories, and then there are stories which tell so much more than the facts they reveal. A story out of Ukraine says…Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs

History is not a resume Listing only accomplishments. History is a review of conscience Considering how to avoid mistakes Past made; a future planned…History

By David Glenn Cox The Ohio State University has settled its long-running molestation scandal case for $100 million. Jim Jordan can finally breathe a…Inherit the Wind – 2026

Photo by L.Annarino Skyline shifts beyond boundaries of Light. Dawn breaks apart Moon from Starlight. Friend to all, Sun takes deep breath and slowly rises just beyond the Bend between neighbors’ yards and my own. I sit in wonder. My Joy wanders, alone.

Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com Start each day with something to say that cheers the heart and paves the way for kindness unbound by fear of loss of reputation and a safe situation, threatened by retribution for your contribution to truth and justice hour-by-hour, day-by-day. We are on a common journey lifted higher by a deep yearning for freedom and equality  to which every…

Photo by Charles Criscuolo on Pexels.com I only want a moment of your time to reflect upon un-poetic rhyme. There is so very much to do. I ask either too little, or too much, of you. His need for subserviency, adoration and greed takes no notice your own, real need. You were never meant to be his white serf, one-step above Black slaves, laboring on his turf. The DOJ and SCOTUS handed…

Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com Knee replacement seems an affront to me. An insult to my body’s integrity. taking out the knee which served me so faithfully, to be replaced by utter falsity. It will work as a joint should, assuredly. But, it really means my new knee is no longer the real me. The me who knocked together, whenever I was afraid, with the other. The knee who knelt in the…

Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Pexels.com To see the future look to the young people. They are not yet bound by convention, nor blinded by the past, as we old people are, weighed down and eyes downcast because we must watch the path we no longer walk easily. Such history serves a  purpose. It offers cautionary tales learned from days gone by. But, it predicts nothing, moves too slowly to…

Photo by Abd Alrhman Al Darra on Pexels.com Borders have their uses. They tidy-up the scene, remind us where we are, and where we have not been. They assign us each a plot of able responsibility, and call us to fulfill our task,  to act responsibly, as we ought. Like naturalists we name each plot to recognize ourselves within its place. We mark paths between each plot, a  no-man’s…

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com We wanderers have a right to be on any path we choose; known, or unknown in mystery. Our passage may take many turns. It may too often lead us astray from the things for which we yearn. One foot in front of the other is best, taking time to consider our choices while our minds and bodies rest. Technology speeds us way too fast telling us hurriedness marks…

Photo by Rishabh Dhiman on Pexels.com CALCULATED BEAUTY What equation rules the mind and creates beauty as it seeks to find the perfect formula for an attractive design? We do the math in hearts, not minds. Not by calculation, but by satisfaction we find what makes us happy, what makes us smile. We then relax all concentration, and simply relish each occasion such unspoken math…

Photo by eduardo199o9 on Pexels.com There was one day each year our Catholic parish could expect the Bishop to visit. Every year the children in the fourth grade, age 10 or so, made their Confirmation of Faith. We studied the tenets of our faith so we would understand more fully what it would mean to be confirmed. This was critical because  the one thing that sank in was the idea that we would…

Photo by Marcio Konno on Pexels.com What do the Earth and her creatures know which we do not know? Are our hopes too high, too soon even as the green grass grows and trees unfurl leaves  that shelter all from heat and sun? The squirrels still seldom leave their nests. The rabbits yet burrow beneath the shed. The disquiet of too quiet daybreak without birdsong warbling to wake all the…

Photo by Google DeepMind on Pexels.com Artificial intelligence is askew. It mispronounces names when I try to make a phone call. I Then must make the same error to chat-up a friend, or order a pizza or a ride. It misspells words as I write. No text, no essay, no poem is safe from un-related words and ideas. Every few moments I must review or a single word shifts all those which follow…

Photo by Irina Iriser on Pexels.com Morning must wait awhile for the sun to cross the stile. We wait in darkness, shadows their starkest; unable to see our way, knowing the sun will rise, always, on a new day. But, I am awake for hours; no years, no decades now. I have pushed away darkened skies, I have struggled to plant seeds in hardened soil stomped on by supremacist feet of…

Photo by Charles Criscuolo on Pexels.com The place where I write may have to change. A soft couch for a hard chair I must exchange. Age hardens the bone more than the sight. Age does not dull the urge to set things right. Except… Age questions all sense of reality. It doubts what right seems to be. Age moves faster the longer it goes. It upsets the cart full of all we know. Age…

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com I learned to read before anyone knew it, even myself. It seems I always could. My mother read to me every day until my younger brother was born when I was four. Then, I read to myself  the books Mom had read to me. When my brother was old enough to sit up in the stroller we walked to the public library every day. Mom read to my brother as I pulled books…