If we are all to die
the cornfields left quite cornless
the wheat-fields, withered, dry
the oceans without fishes
the waterline too high
if we too are just drifters
we are subject to the tides
can be drowned beneath the waters
as tempers and temperatures rise
if we are to go under
then first let’s reach the skies
let us bathe in truest moonlight
hear the sweetest lullabies
let us drift in currents wondrous
let us dance together tight
let us say we won’t go quietly
let us say we lived our lives
but in the noise still listen
still learn to read the signs
still stop to think and keep our heads
heed the worries of the night
stop to listen to our children
because they are getting wise
we said they were the future
they've seen right through that lie
we said children are the future
so let us, please, just try!
to understand that we are
as much the free, as much the truly wild
as fishes in the waters
as birds on brilliant skies
as mushrooms blooming nightly
as winging butterflies
as great old eucalyptus
as flower, stem, and vine
and let us please remember
that we are all to die
and children are the future
please let us only try!
to leave the oceans cleaner
to leave the jungles high
to leave the doorways open
to leave the windows wide
let us read the books and write them
keep true memory live
let us hope that there’s forgiveness
that there’s an afterlife
let us hope some higher spirit
has kindness on its mind
hope we haven’t quite lost contact
lost grip, lost voice, lost sight
when we forgot that we’re earth’s children
we lost our power, lost our right
to tell the future’s children
that we know better than the light
know why it breaks in early morning
better than the night-stars bright
that we know better than this planet
because we have our satellites
have worlds here in our pockets
have access day and night
to endless lies or knowledge
to living byte-by-byte
we’ve forgotten it’s not normal
to find love by swiping right
forgotten how to speak the truth
without hatred, without spite
forgotten fear begets regret
fosters war, and famine, flight
forgotten that we all are one
that we needn’t take a side
we needn’t call each other, other
choose only left or right
we needn’t think we are alone
needn’t think in terms of might
then maybe, only maybe
we’ll find safety in the golden flickered light
of fire and easy company
find what our DNA desires
find common pain, and common scars
from common wounds of life
and from those bonds, build something
that makes our time worthwhile.
Tag: water
2016. / Rise.
A place of fleeting shallows,
of waters rising roughly with the tides,
and shortly draining all away.
Where notions rise as bottles on a pollute sea,
and are tossed about on wavelengths,
let loose upon the noisy air,
to fall again, silent, into the water.
A time of rising disbelief,
leaving warships of old glory-stripped,
their hulls bored through beneath our vision,
to sink under their mutiny.
When a whispered word means more
than a thousand voices pounding on the sky
in thunderclaps of protest.
A world of red-lit nights,
the falling sun casting colours on the sea,
and making shadows for their working.
Where lightening rises from the ground,
to spread its violence to the cloud,
pierces through, and the rain brought tumbling
tastes of acid on the tongue.
A time of desperate villains, desperate men,
whose desperation breeds contempt for laws of nature,
and plants the seeds of lies, to rise
as lofty trees, fed pesticides and time.
When calls for justice are lost into the air,
made quiet in the rising roar, the winds,
and in the winds the voices melt,
and all hands are lost at sea.
Being in Float.
driftwood
left stranded
then dampened by the tide
caught
by rising waters
and wrested from the shore
flotsam
and now floating
and buoyed by gentle waves
drifting
on the surface
just above the undertow
eddied
drawn in circles
and deftly swept away
stranded
by the currents
on the shoreline once again
Magical: Day One 