January 2011 Archives
I was born into a beautiful land
Where berries glisten on the hedgerows
Song thrush warbles in the apple tree
Sunset colours dapple estuary and saltmarsh
Children play on village green.
I travelled to a beautiful land
Where Saurus cranes feed in emerald rice fields
Worshipers throng on Ganges banks
Monkeys crash though jungle trees
Sunrise flames Himalayan snows.
I live today in a beautiful land
Where wood nymphs hide beneath subalpine firs
Lilies bloom in glacier melt
Prairie dogs watch for eagle and coyote
Moonlight gleams on snowy Flatirons.
So simple, this wish
That when these ears are dust
Other ears will hear the thrush's song.
So natural, this prayer
That when these eyes are closed at last
Other eyes will gaze
Upon Himalayan snows.
So human, this desire
That when I am no more
Other feet will walk
The trails that I have loved.
My friends, can it be true?
Must we offer all this beauty
On the altar of our greed,
Burn it in the endless fires of Moloch?
Arise, awake,
While yet there may be time!
Awake and act
Before all this is lost!
Listen, awake,
And hear the song thrush call!
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The snow reminds me of innocence
Of snowman with carrot nose
And two pieces of coal for eyes
Of toboggan rides in Leicestershire hills
And snowball fights with neighbour boys and girls.
Today, the snows of innocence are red with blood,
Blood of nine year old Christina Green
Who wanted to be a politician
And serve the children of the future,
Blood of Mahmoud Ghazal
Killed playing tag in Gaza,
Blood of Iraqi children shot at checkpoints,
Blood of one year old girl
Killed by bomb in Varanasi,
Blood of Khyber schoolchildren killed by Taliban.
Today the snows of innocence are red with children's blood,
Melted by parent's anguished tears.
When will the snows be white and pure again?
I cry to you, Dark Mother,
Drink the hot blood of hatred.
Mother of Sorrows
Wipe the mother's tears,
Lady of the Snows
Restore our innocence
Joyous and free again
Like children playing snowballs.
I
The year begins in silence,
Snow-blanketed,
Midnight darkness
Lit by butter lamp
And Dad's yartzheit candle.
May the peace held within these walls,
The peace dwelling in this heart
Rest on Dad and the ancestors.
May it rest on snowy hills of Wales
May it rest on Erragal and Minala
May it echo in medieval churches of Suffolk
May it shine in Whitley Bay lighthouse.
May this peace abide in ancient tribes
And kingdoms of Sudan,
May it flourish in Ivory Coast
May it clothe flood-ravaged Pakistan
Like a warm blanket.
May this peace be steaming soup
For Haiti earthquake survivors,
May this peace be bread for the hungry
And firelight for the cheerless.
May this peace rest on the forests
May it bless the Amazon with rain,
May this peace ring bells of joy
In seven billion hearts.
Breathing in, breathing out,
In this peace
We are one.