Valiant Protector of Love

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to seek, to have, to know,
our place of protection
 
from our common source
in the cosmic womb,
 
flung here and there,
feeling apart, bereft,
 
our nurturing at time
stripped from us,
 
the stories that break
it all apart,
 
our worldly aim, then,
to remove words, like
 
find
reclaim
harness
 
to be again what
we wish for all,
 
past our stories,
safe within the
arms of love. – TS
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Because We are Human (Poem)

Tammy T. Stone

Tammy T. Stone

The daughter asks:

Mama, why doesn’t the tree fly?

The mother answers:

Because it is a tree.

It doesn’t think of flying,

But look at its branches

Floating high in the sky,

Swaying in the breeze.

This looks a little bit like flying,

Don’t you think?

          But why doesn’t the bird talk?

          Because it is a bird.

          It doesn’t think of talking,

          But look how carefully

          She feeds her young, and

          Listen to the singing sounds

          They make together,

          As they pass each other by.

          This is a little bit like talking

          After all, wouldn’t you say?

But why doesn’t the rainbow stay?

Because it is a rainbow.

It doesn’t think of staying,

But look at the lasting

Impression rainbows make

Long after they’re gone,

And how they live in our memory.

This seems a lot like staying,

Wouldn’t you agree?

          But why doesn’t the sky fall down?

          Because it is the sky.

          It doesn’t worry about falling.

          But look at how we can’t tell

          Where it begins or ends,

          And how it comes all the way down

          To meet us where we are.

          That’s a little bit like the best,

          Most hopeful kind of falling;

          Do you think so too?

And what about us, Mama?

Why aren’t we kinder to each other?

Because we are human,

We do think about being

Kind to each other; we think

About it all the time.

We are sad when there is

Hurt in the world, and even

Sadder when we are the cause.

We are human, so we make many

Mistakes, and we still

Have so much to learn.

But we are trying, and this is,

Is it not, the kindest

Way we can begin?

*This poem was originally published on The Tattooed Buddha.