Wednesday, February 1, 2012


Life keeps changing and change is part of life. Just look at the seasons that come and go. Lately the weather has been so unpredictable that I never know what I will see out my window in the morning. Snow, rain, fog, or sunshine! 

It's interesting when people fight change. Such as small towns that want to continue operating as they have always done and resist change when a taxpayer has a better idea on how to do things. Or, in an old established organization a new leader sees ways to make things more efficient. Often they are met with the established group resisting change.
But, whether we like it or not people need change. A healthy marriage needs change if it wants to stay healthy. A good teacher needs to find better ways to teach. Science discoveries are being made every day which can improve the lives of many people. Business won't survive if it doesn't change. And government policies constantly need an overhaul because society is changing.

Off course, change is not always the best. Today, I want to give you two poems that talk about change. Good and bad change. I'll let you decide what is good or bad change.

Written by Carl Sandburg, born in 1878, in Illinois, USA, son of a Swedish blacksmith. Studied journalism in Milwaukee and Chicago. He travelled about the country earning a living by singing and reciting poetry. I wonder how he would have been received if he had lived in today's world.


The buffaloes are gone.
And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
Those who saw the buffaloes by thousands and how they
pawed the prairie sod into dust with their hoofs, their
great heads down pawing on in a great pageant of dusk,
Those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
And the buffaloes are gone.


Passing through huddled and ugly walls
By doorways where women
Looked from their hunger-deep eyes,
Haunted with shadows of hunger-hands,
Out from the huddled and ugly walls,
I came sudden, at the city's edge,
On a blue burst of lake,
Long lake waves breaking under the sun
On a spray-flung curve of shore;
And a fluttering storm of gulls,
Masses of great grey wings
And flying white bellies
Veering and wheeling free in the open.

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