From Life in the Electrical Business
Safe InsaneSafety, that stand-pat prudence,
That hedge against death,
Itself slowly kills
Its cowering crew,
Who treat life as accidents avoided,
Who will not with love allow sorrow (better safe!),
Who with vengeance for mistakes of the past
And forgetting compassion,
(Even an ounce would cure),
Mummify the future
With pounds of prevention.
I was such a disciple,
But I found safety a danger
To my nature,
For I am someone's risk,
Born to die but living first
At crossroads of limits and possibles.
And safety can't direct traffic there,
There are set up in every neighborhood, poles which bring electric power and light to every home (unless the system has been buried to make the street look tidier). Usually the wires are held out from the poles and suspended between the poles on a horizontal cross-arm. And whenever power is to reach to the houses themselves, there is also mounted on the pole below the cross-arm a cylinder called a transformer.
The transformer is necessary to convert the electricity carried along the poles, from its high voltage to a lower voltage that would be safe and useful for people's needs. The transformer does this by how it is made. It has the high voltage wires that come inside it wrapped as a coil many times around an iron core. Likewise, the wires which are to carry the power down to the house are also coiled around the same core, but without touching the high-wires. Through the mysteries of electricity and magnetism, which no one really understands, this arrangement transforms the electricity to the lower voltage.
There is a similar arrangement and system set up for bringing another power and light to the lives of every family and person. It too involves an ugly weight fastened below a cross-arm on a wooden pole. This transformer is not a device but a person. He also has, wound intimately within him, two natures. By their interaction in him the high life from the source is made available and useful to us. If we are properly connected to this person and equipped with what will apply the life he offers, then we will be enlightened with understanding and our loads will be lightened.
Without realizing it, our modern civilization has erected on every street reminders of a man on a cross that it has almost forgotten. Whenever we see these accidental symbols, may we be recalled to the real transformer himself and to the family throughout the world which is benefiting from the power and light he brings us as he is suspended above us.
WorthWhat business have you, sir,
Making much of the minuscule moves
Of money, viewed in a microscope
Of numbers, no, fractions!?
You fret to find if the rate
Of a profit's increase is any less
Than what a recent rumor prophesied.
I understand, you are a small cog
In the household budget of the world.
Hence, your living off minutiae.
And, yes, I have done your job at times,
Carrying my cash-cares out
To too many decimal places.
But who can account for us?
Are we single hairs on detailed file
On some balding database head?
Are we numbered as spare sparrows,
Droppable from the flock
As long as the flock prospers?
Though someone knows
Your off-balance sheet inside out,
It is not to comb you, gone gray, out.
It is not to feed your feathers
To an army of ants.
You and I will render account
And be audited for every thought.
But we are not worth whatever the market says.
We are not little assets of the household,
And the scrutiny we get
Is only love.
No small change!
© 2006 Larry Dimock