hard eyes stare into the night…

that held the light.will you then burn the book,and wipe your shoes at the door?is it easy to forget the address?some graves are best unmarked you say…let the preacher say a few words.and it’s back to home and the dinner dishes,things that must be done.what’s too painful we walk away from,and name our victories by…

does it take?how many of our boys deadon foreign soilfor no apparent gain?how many unemployed peoplewaiting in line?how many meth labs?convenience store’s robbed?how many teachers laid off,and kids that cant reador do simple math?how many sick peoplewho cant get medical care?how many houses foreclosed?how many homelesswandering in worn out cars?how many oil spills?how many mines…

of man to touch the actualpresence of god…never allowing the seedof man’s inmost desiresto germinate, and conceive!

the winter wind whips downbetween the buildings like a knife…pulling tattered coats tight hunching.and i can hear Shantideva whisper,his hand on the ladel…his body the meat of the soup,his blood the broth…‘these are my children! ‘….they walk in long staggered lines,refugees from the bombing…hungry scared children clinging,afarid to lose sight of…what’s left of their families.nothing…

sweat……dripping……from……..the…. ……foreheadof the old man cutting woodfor the single mother of three….tears…falling….from< br>……the…….eyesof the young woman holdingthe orphaned child close….the sky lit up with ‘enemy fire’….the open handthat…does…..not…… .ask………questions!

the colors from the lastleaves of autumn…the snow from the night skybefore it touched the ground.the sense of dangerfrom the little boy’s heart,before he climbed the tree.the sadness from the body still,in the casket no one dared touch.the sound of crackling from the fire,in the shelter of the cave…the light from the dawn,as if night…