it is the act of evolving, becoming more human.
it requires seeing the face, and knowing the heart.
it has to be the way we live… the way we give….
and the reason we breathe….
a constant joining, listening, and caring.
the responsibility of needs met, and shared.
the shout of the question, and the embrace of faith…
freedom must be who we are, what we are,
and what we believe…
or freedom dies!
that he’d been walking forever…the night was brisk and cool….a half moon, and a few stars.every step he took he let goof something else….all the things he’d thought he needed….all the things that got in the way!pride, hurt, anger, need, andall the images he had of what should be…..he walked up to the door, and…
water clinging, petal!i loved you more thani thought i could bear to lose,i opened the door!fullness, emptiness,owning nothing, part of allunbound by no needs!your Buddha naturesomewhere beneath your hungerfeeds instead of eats!compassion, intent,thought, drive, and humane actionlive deeper, immersed.fire needs the candlecandle needs fire and oxygenhand, foot, mouth, and ears!listen! hand given,both written in the…
the waves of feelingso strong, so dangerous…the hurt so deep itpenetrates and shakesyour very being…suffocates your thinking,till words are too painfulto be spoken…and the darkness is so coldthat you burn down the housetrying to get warm…leaving only the flappingof shadowy wingsin a ghost grey sky….may your spirit be at peace,may your heart be healed….may you…
when the poor of America stand up,and take back what’s been stolen from them!
i want to believethat tomorrow will come.i want to believethat equality will be realized.i want to believethat parity will become fact.i want to believethat diversity will be celebrated.i want to believethat knowledge will replace ignorance.i want to believethat compassion will defeat apathy.i want to believethat humanity will become human!do you?
While the world grieves,Shedding tears of blood.While the body of the child,Is buried with the mother.And hunger hauntsOur sleepless dreams.While the caskets are counted,And prayers come too late.Yet the bus is on time,And the time clock waits.While nothing done,Becomes action by cost.As images drownBoth memory and names.The guilt we wear…Stinks!
