Study War No More
 
 
What lesson can be applied?
When imperialist troops crash down upon a people’s pride?
When might as right meets the instinct to survive?
When Midas greed lashes out to destroy?
We’ve been here before, o my brethren, o my children —
repeating fouled lessons poured into our thirsty minds,
pushing back the horror before our eyes with blinding rage
forged into weapons by mortal foes
who hide in plain sight.
The only thing I know —
The lesson repeating agony in all our souls,
haunted by the pleading eyes and bloody hearts
of slaughtered sacrifices to malignant gods —
There is something vital here to learn.
 
 
 
peaceful moment
 
 
Like a warm evening on the beach, all woozy from sunshine.
Tingle of sea breeze, that ocean scent of the wild.
As the sun recedes, cooling, refreshing, yet still a lazy summer eve.
Oh that luscious feeling, that overflow of quiet release.
In and out of sleepy reverie, gently washing through pools, reservoirs
of elation.
Like a sweet warm breath caressing.
 
We give what we can; we take what we need.
Marching, in orderly fashion.
Or beatific saunter to a sacred beat.
The horizon shifts through daily duties, nightly prayers.
We take what we can. We give.
Without edict, without rational equation,
we give each outward breath, and take in what is given.
 
Like happy inspiration, song springs from memory to lip,
moves the fortunate mind to acute ecstasy of recognition.
Moments meant to linger, to haunt as devoted ghostly guardian.
Draped in ethereal glow of grace’s reward.
Ambient iridescent spirits play joyfully,
ubiquitous harmonies.
Like the words we tell ourselves to bring us peace.
 
 
Support Our Troops
 
 
Bravery?
What if they gave a war
and nobody came?
What if our ethos gave up
on targets to blame?
March of disorders;
unstable bonds break down,
crush frightened nestlings
to dust.
We meant to serve our nation.
We meant to save liberty, defend
threatened treasure, staunch
guards against disaster.
We meant to honor sacrifice, deference of
our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers
for the respected life:
family, God, country
and a wholesome emolument of pleasure.
How could we consent, become executors
of horror so intense
as to reverberate, capture our
remaining consciousness?
Who is advanced?
Who left in pieces that never heal?
God is on the battle field
not as commanding general nor
emboldening mascot,
as witness
and gentle minister
of tragic rites
to shattered soldiers.
 
 
 
Logic of Evolution
 
 
Successful progenitors
survive to sow seed
by force or persuasion
or hiding off screen
or banding together
that more may succeed,
and upgrade conditions,
enhance the breed.
But, for such teams to work well
we must
learn to respect, honor, and trust;
expect to contribute and take and share,
accept the caring for and care.
In community varied seeds are sown.
Thus is a thriving future grown.
Or, sibling rankling infests, turns
on neighbors as scorn.
Barriers proliferate,
preparations for war.
Who is emboldened by
destruction and blood,
blasting civilizations
back into mud?
Are these principled people
filled with kindness and joy?
Those who can create, build;
the lacking destroy.
Guns, bombs, cruel words,
contempt, angry sneers,
promotion of pain,
preying on fears,
paying us naught but
unneeded tears
and advancement of certain
unsavory careers.
We can reject violent lies,
realize the prize.
Here! before our eyes.
Simple. Easy. Free.
Expect, accept, embrace
the abundance
of Peace.
 
 
 
Firelight Story
 
 
Oh my children,
not so very long ago,
probably in many places still,
we lived in communities
in which we had pride and dignity.
Small enough for everyone to
know your name.
Large enough to provide diverse
resource of skills
and personalities.
Caring, squabbling, challenging
as family.
Able to leap beyond petty animosities
and find a way when a way
must be found.
Entrenched in lessons of former days,
preparation for breaking future ground.
Not just a pretty myth
like heroic champions who protect,
subtract our sins.
Community, adaptive growth within
a solid sphere,
a social network of mutual support,
often said to be what we are here for.
(I hear you sneer; you who tear down magic,
hope, shared trust.)
It could be, community,
our prayed for cure (balancing salvation)
to the follies of humanity’s
deadly love
of war.
 
 
 
 
 
Body Language
 
 
Teach Peace
Ecstatic dancing in the classroom
Body wisdom
reaches through neural pathways,
regenerates whole to whole,
touches soul to soul
exactly.
I feel you in my mind, my spine.
Feel me dancing,
elongating muscles
extending connections.

 

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