Where have all the flowers gone?
History has been kind to our generation, the baby boomers. By our shear numbers we've had an enormous impact on most things, as we pass through time. Those following us must be suffering from boomer overload. We have changed the world for the good, but, all has not been good.
Now we are becoming a generation of grandparents. The beautiful innocence of sweet pieces of humanity that are entering our living with swirling helixes miraculously made up with pieces of our own, need us.
The fields of daisies in which we danced, for the most part are are high rises and parking lots. Drinking water comes in plastic bottles, not sparkling springs. We have too much, while so much of the world doesn't have enough. Hope is not part of everyday language.
We are no longer children of the world. The big blue marble no longer belongs to us. Perhaps it is time to clean up our personal and collective messes. Perhaps it is time to think and act globally to support systems of fairness everywhere, so that peace will have a chance. We owe it, big time, to the generation of our grandchildren.
The answers are blow'n in the wind.
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