Today, 70 years later, the attack on
Pearl Harbor is commemorated and the USA joined in WWII. Now I usually don't divulge personal information on the blog. But the way I tell my private history runs as follows: Without Pearl Harbor I wouldn't be there. My father was an American GI who had volunteered. He liberated
my mother, loved and married her. She followed him to the USA on one of the ships with the war brides. I was born a good year later and for my mother American dream turned into American nightmare and she went back home with her bundle of grief under her arm...
I tell the story this way because many children my generation are just as I an aftermath of the war. So I try to be non-violent and words and deeds. Ahimsa, to all of you and blessed be the peacemakers.
The child has the father’s name
That is all he is
a name - a seldom-heard voice
a story lost
With the fading of his glory
he lives on in a dream
reconstructed the charming hero
that he was
or more muddled
motley
the bis-tris-dis-
illusion
of a mother’s life
So the child has a name
any name
The name of the wind
sitting in the rocking chair
with empty screeching
of wood on wood
The first name
that would last.
Cities with harbors and water are special. The rivers give a city space, wide skies, bring tall ships with strangers and something to look at on the promenade, like the colorful ferries wheel. 
