I cannot help but sigh to myself as I watch the current sphere of political activity spin in this magnificent country. It just appears to me so many are simply forgotten. Maybe it’s elusive to those whose claws reach out grasping for more and more power. Yet they fail to see, to reach out and touch what it is really all about. It’s about the mechanic, who keeps our wheels turning beneath us, sweating in a stifling garage, putting in a hard days labor so he can go home at night, hug his children and say one more day, I’ve got this. His back may ache, his hands may be sore, but his heart can be full knowing he can and will carry what is rapidly becoming an unbearable load. Its about the rancher, who puts those burgers in the buns so many want so much to prepare. Saddling up well before the sun crests the horizon. Last night’s leftovers will serve as sustenance here, pennies are tight, the time, the weather and the wolves are always calling the shots. Its about the farmer out on the tractor, who puts food on tables all over this land, endless fields before him, who knows a hailstorm rolling in could make or break him. Yet with true indomitable will, under God’s big sky he’s going to do what he can get in those crops he brought to life when the chill of winter was just lifting across the land. Its about the worker in the factory, laboring endlessly to put together all that makes our country run, working towards the day when he can step away, feel he did well and experience all he had just dreamed of those long days when work seemed interminable.
As those in the political arena reach their arms heavenward, a place I doubt they know or will ever see. I know in my heart what its not about. Its not about denying the mechanic his boat because they have seized a cause to enslave those who have not the power to fight. While they fire up their jets and fly to dinner. Its not about some Hollywood star who dishes vitriolic hatred yet cowers and cries to the powers that be when the favor is returned. Its certainly not about those who do the dark deceitful things and move on with no regrets and none of the so called justice that would be so deftly wielded to the average person’s destruction.
When the day comes that the mechanics jack fails and he is crushed beneath the vehicle he was repairing to keep a single mother on the road. His family will cry, they will scream and then they will smile because they knew he loved them. When the Rancher rides upon the herd he left in safety as the night fell and finds in misty light of dawn that the wolves have made a mighty dent in the number of calves he’d planned to sell in the fall. He will just a take deep breath, know he’ll cut back again this year and maybe one day he’ll finally get the see the ocean. When the farmer awakens in the night to a wailing storm stripping him of the fruits of his labors, he will bow his head to God and give thanks for his father before him who taught him to work harder and plant again. When the factory worker walks into the meeting and is told his job is going, the plant is closing and his dreams of peace towards the end of his journey are gone. He will feel his heart stop and know the little wood shop he built will have to get him through and no dreams will ever be realized. Fate exacts her own price and justice is framed on each individual’s capacity to fight on and build upon his knowledge passed on one to another. Freedom is evident to the individual yet, elusive to the pack that feeds upon itself.
So the politicians reach skyward with empty hands wailing the benefits of their power. I for one know that the time is rapidly coming that open hands outnumber calloused ones. On that day, there will be no burgers to flip, no jets to fly and no words in the form of empty promises to console a spoiled populace that has no idea of how to adjust their sails against the storm.