An Offering
Policeman’s helmet shining
in the presence of sun’s light.
Peaceful people walking
for peace their only fight.
His son born today,
their first day on the move,
he couldn’t stand alone,
somehow had to join the son’s future.
Slowly the inspiration
a white feather given.
One marcher accepted
in the son’s name, for living.
Across the country to be carried
across the vast spectrum of hope.
It will drift on, enliven, and inspire
because the dream for world peace
is man’s soulful prairie fire.
Love
is the Answer
Love is the Answer
Love is the Key
Love is the Reason
Love sets us Free
Love is the Way
Love is the Path
Love clears the Mind
And lets troubles pass
I’m on the Boat of
Loneliness
I’m on the boat of loneliness
floating down the river of life
hoping to run into the sandbar of love.
The Cosmic Sound of Love
(dedicated to
Marchers and Supporters)
The universe is singing
A cosmic melody
It’s heralding a brand new age
Of pure divinity
It’s recruiting all the soloists
That came to chant its song
To harmonize in unison
A tune yearned for so long
Some may join the rhythm
Or refuse to hum a note
This chorus is most special
It’s “The Sound of Love” God wrote
When you feel the music
And your voice is heard
You’ll know that you’ve been chosen
To carry forth the word
And you’ll radiate perfection
With service to humankind
You’ll be your soul’s reflection
By the power of your mind.
I’m Never Alone
I’m never alone now
I can face every day
You’re walking beside me
And lighting the way
You’re with me each moment
In my thought and my prayer
I’m learning to love, discovering faith,
Becoming aware
I’m never alone now
I have you by my side
To comfort and listen
To the secrets I hide
You taught me forgiveness
And you washed away pain
I’ve opened my heart, exploring my mind,
I’m
living again.
You filled me with love
And showed me the way
You guided each step
Like a lamb gone astray
You helped me believe
To trust and let go
The peace that I found
Is within, now I know…
I can face all tomorrows
With its joys and its tears
I can meet all its sorrows
Without any fears
For I have you beside me
To lighten the way
I’m never alone, my heart and my soul
Are yours every day.
Dark Colors
Dark colors
Blacks, blues,
Murky night
Clear wind without color
Blows through
My hair and
My mind.
Air, smelling
Sweet with
Warmth
Silhouettes of
Trees
Against the sky
Two, three, four shades
Lighter
Unsubstantial
Emotions touch me,
As life returns
After snow.
Insects
i’d forgotten about
ants (that don’t bite)
and
ladybugs
and gnats and mosquitos …
has it been just the
winter blocking my
memory
or
was it many years ago
I last was so aware.
Horseflies and bees instead
of cockroaches, and
the sun
and the earth and
the water
and the thorns
--not thumbtacks—
in the grass
(so much cooler than
carpet).
Once the grass young in
the grain
Shooting an arrow of sun
Into that cave
Spring comes again
Fresh green in fields of vision
The insatiable spirit of life
Bright as the phoenix rise –
Twice.
Walk – March 22 ’86
I lie upon the ground, digging the goods of this earth. Were I as the sparrow that hunts the limburger, my thoughts now would be worms after the rain. For packs of bloodthirsty wild desert dogs will not terrorize me to a desire for carrying knives and guns.
I am a member of a new society, bonded by accident but united by the same ancient dreams. For long I have slept under the drunken weeping willow, staggering past artificial light in the belligerent noon rays of the emerging American night.
Here, we are all creators with varied skills, making the outhouses clean, the vans and trucks oiled, and the salads dressed for the Big Travelling Shoe.
Ed Sullivan’s ghost haunts us in the megaphone morning, while rainbows of tents float, ballooning our happy happy world. These are my patriotic flags that represent all creatures.
I am awakening here among mushy crowds of kind huggers. Why? Because the American people love us as I’ve never seen before, as though the poor Prince of Peace were among us. We are blessed with gifts of great home cooking, cheers, smiles, joyous songs, buses, vans, and elbow grease.
St.
George, Utah, and the Dragon
Through the land of the latter-day saints
Blows a latter-day stigmata
The blood on the lintel post
Speaks strontium—
Job
curses God, and dies.
The mote in your own eye
Is metaphor no more.
It blossoms forth in swollen flesh
And lies.
Cassandra voices in the mind
From twenty years ago
Re-echoing the new Cassandra voices:
The answer is not blowing in the wind—
The question is.
The answer is walking in the wind.
The Ice Cream Man Carries
a Bugle
Come over children,
hear the call.
Line up your strength
given from Mom.
More and more
war after war,
comforts we receive
for their battles of greed.
The final song we hear
a lone bugler’s tape
instead of peaceful chimes
for all brothers dear.
A sad price to pay
for false just-desserts.
Isn’t it time, children,
for the dream to be real?
Aren’t children worth
the last possible hope
to gain one whole earth?
Here he comes again,
laden with power-filled vanities
and all sorts of misconstrued sanities.
So, hide and seek, hide and seek
maybe this one around
our procession will end,
and the kingdom of life
shall be inherited for love and peace.
The Heart of a City
Hiroshima screams
A nation falls
Eighty-thousand dreams
Freedom crawls
Weak, diluted spots of sun
struggle to pierce
the thick morning haze
which clings to the mountain’s jagged crest
and moves slowly, snake-like
along its face
Castles are razed,
Gardens reek of the dead—
The urgent mother’s hell;
A bell tolls twice
For those who bled—
The living await their knell.
Peace Is A Wave
(A pre-march song)
The nuclear bombs are waiting, to make our whole world dead
It could happen any day, it could happen any day
All our lives are dangling, by such a slender thread
It could happen any day, it could happen any day
Nothing can protect us, there’s nowhere to hide
They can’t be used for defense, but only genocide
We can’t comprehend it, no matter what we’ve read
It could happen any day, it could happen any day
But there’s a way to change it
We’re marching for peace
Five thousand people
We’re marching for peace
Across the USA, shouting
Take those missiles down
Take those missiles down
Peace is a wave, my brothers
Throw yourself into the surf
Peace is a wave, my sisters
Ask yourself what life is worth
Plunge right in and the ripples spread, out across the world
The great Peace March is coming
Don’t let Peace be just a word
Peace is a wave that’s gentle
Calming fears and soothing nerves
Peace is a wave that’s pounding
No one on earth can stop the surge
Let it wash you clean and lift you up, and drive it on with your heart
The Great Peace March is coming
Don’t let peace be just a word
A nuclear war could start from one faulty radar screen
It could happen any day, it could happen any day
Or one or many conflicts, where great powers intervene
It could happen any day, it could happen any day
We sacrifice our freedom, and our economy
Health and education, to worship towers of steel
Greedy people getting rich by building death machines
It is happening every day, It is happening every day
But we’re not gonna take it
We’re marching for peace
Five thousand people
We’re marching for peace
Across the USA, shouting
Take those missiles down
Take those missiles down
Peace is a wave, my brothers
Throw yourself into the surf
Peace is a wave, my sisters
Ask yourself what life is worth
Plunge right in and the ripples spread, out across the world
The great Peace March is coming
Don’t let Peace be just a word
Peace is a wave across America
Jump upon your walking shoes
Peace is a wave of people
launch yourself, it’s time to choose
Paddle hard and we’ll ride far, make the dream come true
The great peace march is coming
Peace begins with me and you
Dreams
It was the grey dream again. Everything in the world was grey and gritty, bleak and hopeless. Huddled in a tattered grey blanket, she crouched in a cellar. Outside she could hear rustlings and scutterings, scraps and flaps of cardboard tossed like victims by the howling wind.
She felt tears on her cheek. Useless tears. Except, they could wake her. Help her climb the layers of dreams into reality. She could stop living this nightmare of bleak greyness and howling cold. Wake up, turn on the light, and go out to the kitchen for a glass of milk.
She could almost taste the milk. Cool and fresh. Sweetness sliding down her throat. And while she was at the refrigerator, take out the tub of butter. Carry it over to the cupboard. In the wooden rollup breadbox, find a crusty roll. Favorite blue plate, the blue of lakes and asters, and the neat little butter knife.
Perch on a stool at the white-painted kitchen table, hugging her knees and rocking herself awake. Sip the cool milk. Bite the crusty bread. Feel the sweet slipperiness of the butter on her teeth. Picnic food. She could plan a picnic for tomorrow.
They’d go out to the lake, take cold chicken in a basket; fruit—all the wonderful fresh fruits of summer—peaches, grapes, and melon. Maybe the berries would be ripe. Take picking baskets.
The best berries they wouldn’t even put in the baskets. The perfectly ripe ones, dark and sweet, would fall apart in their fingers. So cram them sweetly, stickily, into their mouths and laugh at the dark red stains.
Who would she invite on her picnic? It was late. Too late to call anyone.
Tears. Tears again. So climb the layers of sleep into reality, and turn on the light….
But there is no light. Only this tattered grey blanket. Scraps of cardboard rustling, tossed on the gritty wind. And tears.
She tastes them, salty on her cheek.
September
15, 1985
Yesterday, the Egret
Standing in her reflection
Took one measured step,
Paused,
Considered the effect,
Took another step.
Ripples widened,
Reflection stilled.
She waited,
Watched,
Teaching me
The Journey.
Soldiers Without Guns
oh look down upon us
we’re in our final
days
we can hardly see the
danger through all
the smoke and haze.
we’re knee deep in the
sorrow of those who
lost their friends.
it’s gone on for so many
years but now it’s gonna end.
Chorus:
we’re soldiers without guns
we’re marching to make our
peace in the rising sun.
Throw your hatred
down, to save the fertile
ground
cause when the first one hits
there’s nowhere we can run.
we’re soldiers without guns
we’re marching to the beat
of a different drum
so give us another
song and the strength to
carry on and we may
save this world for your
father and your son.
five years ago I
roamed the shore of
a timeless beach the
endless blue water
seemed barely out of reach
I sat down in the sands
of that crystal shore
I said mother how
could we lose all this
to some old pointless war?
Chorus
now you know just
why we try to reach
the leaders so numb
we’re not gonna let them
drag us down to
where they’re coming
from.
there’s a girl by a Nam
memorial
weeping for her friend
I’d like to be the one
to tell her you’re
never gonna cry
again.
Chorus