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The Good Olde Days

Arthur Charles Ford

Forced from our distant continent where unspoiled rituals were our daily
prayers, we shared and lived off the land, thus avoiding technocrats feeding
us junk food. The rains came often enough to cultivate our God given earth;
for it was “our supermarket”. Pining for the sight of the morning sun, we
absorbed the freshness of the night carried to us by tribal drum beats. These
beats communicated to us who was healthy, ill, hungry and their location.
We responded!!! We knew not of buying, for “bartering” defined our means
of marketing. Money, memos and contracts were not generated, for we
cherished the trees that God gave us for cosmic ray protection and housing.
Clothing was not abundant, for our bodies were not thought of as a
commodity to be sold, ridiculed or abused. But used to communicate, by way of dance, the pulchritude of God’s most unique machine, and for reproduction-when
He granted it!!
Now here we are today! Encapsulated in a society where avarice, crime,
fame, drugs and nepotism rule. Our surnames are misnomers!!! Our daily
meals no longer blossom in the backyard, but are advertised to us with prices
that depend upon how a Middle East sheik behaves and Wall Street Postings
day to day.The farmer is slowly being replaced by the researching and developing
of synthetic “breakfast”, “lunch” and “dinner. Life itself is being compressed into a pill and a test tube!! Nature is being disobeyed!!!!! Science has yet to categorize racism as a disease, so no cure or treatment is being pursued. The drum beats we now hear are those which lead funeral processions for victims who fell trying to eradicate this disease. This disease (racism) has been modernized and camouflaged. We have succumbed to it, and practice its skullduggeric tactics.
Our concentration on keeping pastures green has been superceded by “the green paper”, which at one time was denied to us. But since then, “some of us” have been allowed to flourish in “some of it”. We lustfully buy elaborate cars, clothing and
waste food, while forgetting or ignoring those of us who are in need of compassion.
But thank God, there are some of us who pensively think about the metamorphic changes we as a people have experienced. Those few, while meeting and greeting at black-tie affairs, devouring caviar, sipping champagne and turning business deals are dying inside to return home, if possible!!!
Yes, return home!!! Way back home!! Back to our culture, honesty and simplicity-back to the good olde days!!!!



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