March 19~ PREETAMDAS KIRTANA

SPOTLIGHT ON... PreetamDas Kirtana

Verse & Vine

Consider the lilies but
consider this, too,
when we “toil or spin”,
it could be we’re
rooted no deeper than self,
We don't lack seed but soil,
not shade but sun beyond
what we alone can grow.

We have supply and
demand but not desire,
to lose privilege,
feed everyone, protect, serve, educate, eradicate war,
quench every single thirst with community wells. We have
Ways but not will, to water thirst, that isn't our own,
to offer assistance unearned,
to not victim-blame, to not sink in shame, to acknowledge -
we hold the key to changing
a certain and avoidable end
hinging on understanding the
difference between domination and dominion,
between being born “very good” or “in sin”,
between starting with chapter one or chapter three,
between Presence and power,
and how both are soft and strong, soaring, still,
rising grounded, disciple’s heart, joyfully seva bound.

The Beatitudes could
guide us, that one sermon we have
but we don't want to risk taking them literally
like the stone tablet ten,
and they're not rife with
comforting legalism
or ego return, they
don't inspire envy
in disciples’ craving power without compassion,
but God's power without God's compassion,
as it turns out, isn't God,
at all, it's just self-seeking
on a pilgrim path,
all me doing me, cheering me, rooting for ourselves
and believing God does,
too, and, of course,
It does: God cheers us to return
to our roots, to consider
our soil, Source, and light,
to be honest about our will
and ways, and desire
and how aligning those three, can be the Home
we never left, Eden restored, no border, no bouncer, no blame.

Daily Brew

It was a two storm tide
that swallowed mother

before my eyes,
dad and me, funnel clouds fuming, double dog daring your landmine or mine held down too long, too tight too wet two small foul tides, both rising, barren bosom, dry heartland drenched to drowning by a two storm tide turning against mother, father, and son, and the Holy Ghost, who comforted all but saved none.

Sunlight, Moonlight, Star Gate Child

I often don't regulate well,
I sometimes praise
too loudly without carrying
a single note,
I often risk trusting
too much when the evidence says don't,
so rather than rooftop proclaiming,
I embedded my thanks here
in my open palm recognized
by your portal palm pressed
to my passing witness planted,
by the same riverside, sharing network
of roots that shall not be, shall not be moved but
whose pipe branch sent wind song will be moved,
across the face of the waters and tides of time,
of storms stilled, yet waters troubled by
difference drowning wholeness,
desiring, healing rising and healing does rise
prodigal, prophet, seer,
beggar, saint, come near,
press your palm to my mirror, my holy breath held
in your own, heart open
by a song unrehearsed,
a tune known by trusting hearts and mirrored hands
tracing glory, trailing love, revealing wings in our
shared human story.

Preetam’s work has been featured on Semantikon/Three Fools Press website (under previous name ‘Patrick Sebastian’) and archived with other authors at The Weston Gallery, Cincinnati, Ohio documenting Ohio arts and media at the turn of the 21st century. His nonfiction has been serialized in The Dayton City Paper. His poetry was included in the 2024 Ohio Bards Anthology. He taught creative nonfiction at Stivers High School for the Arts and co-chaired a Men's Writing Group in Santa Fe, N.M. His 2016 Essay, "Why Survive a Plague?" is featured on "35 Years of AIDS" at Indolentbooks.com.

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