The stoops of Brooklyn sit with a waiting calm as the trees whistle a breeze while the locust sound mark the end of summer. There are those who search for work on Labor Day as the incoming tide of fashioned debts come flooding in. New York also known historically as part of the key stone states, continues to hold the predestined Californian gold key that unlocks the ancient riddle of society. Here we are in due time and in need to find that that key on the ring. Finding this key recalls the music that smells like rebellious spirit but all it does is open the molding Chamber St. subway station that presents soul that only your psyche can remember and read. Welcome to the five points of the world.
Where is it? It is in a patched-up piece of land titled America. Every place has had a five points at times but America has been a burning buildup of liberated spirits. Yes, New York City’s infamous five points in the 1800s is a slice of the world pie. Bringing all immigrants from the world learning how to live together and shake off the shackles of slavery with the enduring Lenape paths. Either living in New York, visiting, or using your google GPS you can now access this Manhattan Five Points zone seeing it has become a children’s playground at center while surrounded by the New York City supreme and civil courts. Who would of guess that this was such an outcome and what does it mean? That it carries on the continued display of major disputes beyond concrete walls with only the playground as a last call for justice served? Do not ever fall for the lies of nationalism in any country propagated by the professional historic actors famed as politicians who look at soldier’s graves to only remark, “That could have been my vote”. Only a very few in the world have spit out higher remarks and are remembered for their kindness.
Larks these days like to cook up the times of caves and catacombs as heirs to the fire of why we are here. Yet this dimension of experience in vastness of gained knowledge for the planet and the universe secures the hopeful survival to reach a shore plain and feel the final rest of festivity. The states, the patches of land, of America all wear the organic scars of the world unknowingly until now as the youth wake up from their nest ready to fly from their cultured beliefs. To labor together they can produce the wildest rich fruits that the world needs. When a country grows up, the world gains a fruitful tree in the growing desert. Made in America tags stitched on and ready to trade out what is needed in the planet’s stock for life with no pied piper interference. What life is in the Mariana Trench? What life is in the Amazon Rainforest? What is the core of earth made of? Are of the many questions rewarded in time to dwell on.
The moon cast out from ourselves as a personal mirror to answer out such questions on exceeded time. Looking out daily seeing the ongoing anticyclonic red storm on Jupiter, the gravitational waves rolling in and out, and the sparking womb of the starburst galaxy from a Brooklyn stoop allows the reasons to live and extend the beauty. When people murmur the question, “What year are we in?” with stressing of dissatisfaction then it can be argued that indeed 2017 is not the correct year to be chiming to. The current view has a passing black hole sun that could align the five points of America with all the corners of the world to reach for a progressively real “New World”. Una palabra para todas las personas unidas en la vida.