People are falling.
The world is burning.
Mountains are exploding
and trees are disappearing
and children are being wrested
from their parents and still,
somehow, we carry on
and forget to buy milk
and fall in and out of love,
and the ashes of a civilization
about to drown are seeping
into our art, our dreams, our poems.
Sometimes it seems as though
we have chosen to forget
what tethers us to each other,
and to this great expanse of world,
so consumed are we
by our need to protect what is ours.
But what we think we know
does not always align
with the wisdom of this universe
through which we live, breathe,
love, make mistakes,
and where it does, will we
find the courage to live
and die on an axis of this wisdom?
Can we stop for a moment,
and let what is wrong
fill our consciousness,
so that we see, and know,
and can we open our eyes,
and look for the everyday miracles
telling us that growth, and regeneration
are the legacy of Mother Nature,
of which we are a beautiful part,
can we find the buds of green
sprouting through the dried out concrete,
and vow to put the same happiness
into all the sad, miserable hiding places
until we can all sing the same sounds
from the same clean air
and from the same place of freedom?
I Stand with the Dreamers
I am with the Dreamers
I awaken each day to the miracle
Of a sun that still,
In the face of all this, rises,
Grows strong and golden
And blasts us with a rush of warmth
Reminding us of time’s cycles,
Of renewal, and how brief it all is.
I want to use the time wisely,
To create the love and acceptance
And justice I want all around me.
I look at the sun; it is impossible,
Regarding its striking power,
To think of Earth, or any part of it,
As mine, as belonging to me.
In this way, I, like you, might be
Utterly, completely, blessedly free,
And am appalled at how quickly
It can all fall apart.
I am a Dreamer, like you.
I do not live where I was born,
I was not born in my parents’ countries,
And their parents come from
Another place still.
Is this not, going back far enough,
The state of things for us all?
I weep for the nature of circumstances
That took my ancestors from me
Before I could know their legacy,
That today grant me movement
And wrest from others
The right to their dreams.
For what holds us here, fragile and unsure,
But the dreams we carry with us,
That bear witness to our fear and pain,
That promise of a bright tomorrow
That will keep on expanding
With every dream that dares to fill it?
We are all Dreamers
In our pursuit of the pure and true,
In our wish to know that
Our pain can be lessened,
That our hopes,
Lively, imaginative and necessary,
Live and that they matter.
I stand with the Dreamers,
In a world that can only survive
On the breath of every last one
Of its beautiful dreams.