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Setting My Sights

Setting My Sights

Yes, I’ve been conspicuously absent. I’ve been working night and day to establish our  BlueHome Artworks consignment shop within the New Vrindaban Community.  I started a blog there as part of the online store/website: The BlueHome Blog, where I talk about the value of thinking small, in terms of supporting small and local businesses, artisans making hand crafted products, agriculture, etc. Village economy, really.

So you can check that sight and blog out if you’re inclined to. Here, I intend to maintain my personal stuff, including my writing, my spiritual quest and ponderings, etc. I know; it’s a summer picture I’ve posted, but the current view from our home is a little bleak right now, since we don’t have snow yet—at least not any that’s stuck. But as you can see, it is snowing on the picture anyway.

So here’s my new poem. It does, in fact, contain some of those ponderings. I hope you enjoy it. As always, I invite you to comment if you feel like it.

Setting my Sights

Jesse S. Hanson

My Father is dead but my real Father lives
My real Father is dead but my even more real Father lives
Jesse is gone but then he never was
I never could find him
Just some vague familiarity with someone who always disappointed

Where is my family, my kin?
I wait for them on the shore where the boats come and go
But not them, no
Where are my dogs and my horses?

I don’t see them run and bark and whinny
Over the hills, willy-nilly
Where are my girls, where are my boys?

My songs are dead but my real song sings
My dreams are dead but my real dream waits
For me to wake up
From dead and dying dreams

I have to set out
I have to go on a fearsome adventure
I have to set out across the wilderness with only faith
Since I lack courage
Since I lack vision
Since I lack identity

I’ve always had to cry as the years have gone by
Where are my rolling prairies?
Well, those men have plowed them
Where are my towering hills and splendid valleys?
Those men cut them down, dug them out, they were sold out for baubles
And a plastic future
Where is my beach, my little house on the ocean?
All washed up, built up, soiled, overgrown, weeds and litter

My land is dead but my real land lives
My Father is buried but my real Father lives
My real Father is cremated but my more real Father lives
Jesse is gone but then he never was
I have to go to another land
I will grow weary of this childish tantrum
These sentimental tears

I will become forgetful of all things behind me
Become tired of mourning a life that did not care for me
A home that was not there for me
I’ll set my sights on the unknown distance
Across the ocean of this lost existence

My Father is dead but he’ll be forgotten
My real Father has gone on ahead
My even more real Father is here waiting.

I’ve been relatively absent from blogging for some time, due to my work in preparation for the opening of our new BlueHome Artworks consignment shop in New Vrindaban. I wanted to post, just briefly here, about our very encouraging and well received opening in conjunction with the annual Festival of Inspiration.

Thanks so much to all who visited the shop and showed support, including Maharaja Radhanath Ji, who suggested that, with the shop providing an outlet for people’s artistic creations, we would start a renaissance. Temple president, Jaya Krsna, had also stated, upon hearing of our proposal for the shop, “I like very much the idea of the store. It will encourage more devotees to work on their propensities.”

We had quite an enjoyable, successful, and encouraging opening weekend at our new BlueHome Artworks consignment shop. It was the annual Festival of Inspiration and the shop was well received, supported, and patronized by those attending. The weather was mostly fine–sunny and cool–until Sunday, which was rainy, but spirits seemed undampened. (:<)>

Especially, thanks to all the fine artists and artisans who have contributed and intend to contribute to the shop by consigning their work with us. The quality of work is outstanding, even exceeding expectations. We really cannot sufficiently express our appreciation. –Lilasuka and Jesse

As always, thanks for stopping by my blog, and please feel free to comment, if so inspired.

Keep in touch, Namaste, jesse

Jesse S. Hanson’s spiritual fiction novel

Jesse S. Hanson's spiritual fiction novel

Click picture to Buy or learn about my novel