“TO BE OR NOT TO BE IS THE QUESTION…”

Whether or not William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon wrote or did not write the works attributed to him—as some claim—does not in my mind cast a shadow of a doubt that “The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark or HAMLET for short, dates between 1599 & 1602 and is a masterpiece of betrayal—a  blog for another day.

Today is about the phrase from Hamlet “…to be or not to be” that we the people persist saying to this day. Yet how or when the words is the question” were added to the phrase I cannot say. Perhaps the answer is in the play itself or in our need to find answers for questions that are unanswerable.

As in Shakespeare’s Hamlet, life and death is still in the balance of how we humankind are to be or not to be. Our energy is intensifying and we look to Mother Earth who looks back and asks us: to be or not to be? Generations of those who built a solid steadiness we counted on weep at our breakdown. Malevolent and Noble continually cross swords to assure a win and the people cry out: to be or not to be. Children, being children, sense the MIGHT of the swords and reach for a sanctuary. The Statue of Liberty—a gift to America from the people of France—stands in bewilderment at her role to be or not to be.

The older word Musing means thought or reflection or deliberation and broadcasts to the world…TO BE OR NOT TO BE IS THE QUESTION!

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“The Voices…”

liberty_000Year 2014: Can’t you hear our wailing? Do you not sense the rise as we lift from the ashes of war? Have you not yielded to the whimpers of the children? Has not power been revealed as an Achilles’ heel? Humankind’s voice is shouting: even when silenced by tyranny or partition. For it is within the privacy of every  thought that each voice cannot be denied its intention.

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Year 1903: Perhaps American poet Emma Lazarus (1849-1887), born in New York City, said it best in “The New Colossus” {a sonnet written in 1883 and on a bronze plaque in the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty; placed in 1903.}  

Give me your tired, your poor. Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

THE VOICES: Those yearning to breathe free then and now—one-hundred and eleven years later—shall not be silenced. For once a lamp is lit its glimmer is cast for all time.