Warriors of Words
listen poets of the world
your words are mighty
your vision is clear
war is war is war
never peace
never healing
if war
the oracle of history speaks
through your words
through your courage
fight with the pen
with your vision
but most importantly
open the space between space
the world between worlds
between your words
the world is not simple
it is not even one
it is in layers of understanding
create that empty space
of understanding
by heart on fire
by compassion
by being unbearably honest
create that space for free thinking
curling through your words
to hit in the heart of hearts
like a bolt of enlightenment
you are the carrier of the flame
the favorite of the muse
the warrior of words
truth truth truth
seek it speak it
the bush is on fire
illusions run deep
seek speak the truth
and hope shall remain
peace shall remain
in the s p a c e
dedicated to all the people that took part in making the Book of Hope & the
World Healing Book possible with their work and with their spirit
The Fall and Rise of the Eagle
I was in the great nest
my mother a restless bird
she nurtured me
with hard to swallow food
she longed to fly free
with the music of the wind singing in her wings
she longed to see me grow faster
so she could claim her freedom
so she pushed me from the nest
before my wings were strong enough
I fell
tried to flap my weak wings
but I fell
down where it was not safe
I did not know where to look for her
I did not know where to mend my broken wings
I walked into many dangers
somehow I survived
I never tried flapping my wings
they healed
but I never trusted them to carry me
the ground world did not know what to make of me
I was lost
I longed for the sky
but didn't know how to reach it
everything was so up close that
I lost my focus
dreams of sky
dreams of flying
I talked to different animals
humans and insects
they told me stories
and some lived with me
I had walked far
and I reached the edge
of the abyss
it called me
I could see birds fly
soar with grace and play
I felt a great pull
like the forces of nature
where pushing me
like my mother pushed me
and standing there
I knew it was up to me to fall or fly
pushing
falling flying
I took the leap
and at first I fell and then I could feel
the wind in my wings singing
and I knew what to do
I could see the picture clearly
and I was flying
and I could see that
my time within the world at the ground
was needed
in order to bring
new viewpoints
to the world above
I was flying
no longer a bird without wings
and a tree without roots
I was flying
a child of earth
a child of sky
I am eagle
Previously published in the World Healing Book 2002
Countdown to War
My dreams are filled with dead childrens bodies,
piling up in the middle east.
I see their smiles, their future,
that could have been.
I see the broken hearts of their mothers & fathers
and I cry while I sleep now.
While awake I see headlines,
carefully constructed by the mass media
"Countdown to Iraq"
Who owns the media?
Who wants more children to die?
For oil, for greed, for land, for the chosen few.
Who are these chosen few?
Are they me,
are they you?
Can I remain awake or is life becoming a living nightmare?
Can I look myself in the eyes knowing that I am just standing by
while the world is falling into the abyss of darkness.
Deeper by day.
Do we dare risk anything
for our fellow brothers and sisters, that are suffering in our world?
Do we dare be heroes and not just sit by as
the bullets and missiles rain over the Palestinian children?
As the children in Afghanistan die like flies this winter?
As the children in Iraq wait with fear in their heart
about what will happen next?
Can we really sleep with out seeing those bodies
fill our dreams?
The eyes, the smiles
that will be
no more.
Do we dare be heroes?
Or will we watch our world be crucified again
in fear,
of love,
in fear?
The choice has never been more clear,
what do you choose?
Previously published at the Blacklisted Journalist 2003
Bone day
That day,
when your death became reality,
touchable like my very own flesh.
That day,
the sky wept.
The sorrow of five long years,
came bursting out,
hitting me,
again and again.
What was this sorrow,
my own solitude,
my own sense of loss?
Can't avoid,
the terror,
the fear.
I embrace it,
love it,
at the peak,
of the emotion.
The day they found you,
I dressed in white,
my black tears,
rolling down,
grapes.
Until transparent.
I knew by then,
I was healed.
The movement
of denied feelings,
making me
lighter,
stronger,
brighter,
as I sang out
all your names,
in a current of sad joy.
The day they found you,
I dressed in white,
my eyes shining,
with the whole emotional scale,
my voice transforming,
from hurt to healing.
The day they found your
weathered bones.
I dressed in white,
watered my plants
of sorrow,
with my tears of joy.
previously published in the anthology In our Own Words 1999, Wake Up 2001, and
in various publications around the world
Freedom
If you ask me about faith
I will tell you
That my faith has no name
I belong to no church, or religion
Every place on earth
Is my place of worship
All of gods names are my god names
Beyond name
It is what it is
If you ask me about where I come from
I will tell you, that I was born on an island
But I belong to all the people that live on this Earth
And all of Earths different places are my home
In my answers I feel freedom
I am no longer caged by nationality,
religion or politics
My home is this planet
And the universe the source of my faith
I am what I am
.
