both the value of each moment,
and the value of each person
that we encounter.
we encounter no one by chance!
what is given, truly given,
remains… not much else matters!
the gift of life
is the gift of touch.
and so many touch our lives,
so many we dont seem to notice.
take the time to listen,
to say thank you,
and to touch in return.
that is what makes us eternal!
we are more connected than we know…
often the suffering we endure is shared.
so must be the freedom.
the rumble that shakes the streets,i can smell buildings on fire.can hear the planes,the sound the bombs make falling,the pulsing hate of the oil rigs,the shuffle of money behind closed doors.the wail of prayers in desperate churches,the street dealer selling a loaf of bread.the metallic sound of shovels digging graves,the ignorant drone of great leaders.the…
that dropped the bombson the family kneeling togetherin a tiny dwelling?did i?did i pump the gasto drive around townthat sent the armyto invade a small country,rich in oil….well, did i?did i waste the paperthat came from the tree,the whole forest cut down….that left the earth bare,and choking for air….did i?did i throw out the foodleft…
do we understand the concept?justice has nothing to do withclass, religious beliefs, skincolor, or economic station…it has nothing to do with revenge!it cannot be used for politicalpurposes…justice looks, smells, tastes, andfeels the same for all people!justice is marked by a true senseof equality.doesnt sound like what we have now?therein lies the reason for revolution…it we…
never forgetting the facesof hunger and need.great planes flying overhead,covered trucks on dusty roads.soldiers with guns, blank stares,cold as the oil in their veins….the reporter speaks, eyes half lowered…you turn off the tv,and go to wash your hands…but you cant wash away the stain!
your talons wrapped in feathers….your spread your wings,call your chickies home!you stamp your feet,eyes wrinkled with loving’s cost.your voice soft and firm demandsthat your love returns again…..for a moment forgetting,all the lies that darkness sold you,and your passion finds your heartas if it never left!
have melted, into brown in time grownbrittle…and so i hold your hand, without graspingso hard as if to lose, yet knowing yourhand… every nuance, every mile, everydestiny come and gone… feeling everytrace of living as if a prayer…listening to your hand as if to a hymn…your hand and mine, we rock… the wind blowsin perfect…
