In my near death experience...on the return to my body... I saw the world from a vantage point just outside the atmosphere... The world was a single organism... pools of light and dark... mostly light... moving in and out of each other in concentric circles. Some pools of light joined other pools of light.... moved as waves across the earth... making the whole earth a brighter place... I could have ignored the dark pools washing back the other way but they are there...

Date:   10/3/2007 7:36:33 PM ( 17 y ago)

and today...
I revisited this poem I had written
added a few words here and there...

I often put little bits of other author's words
in my poems to make them sound better
than my poem's alone…
giving them more words that rhyme…
This is quote by an author unknown;

"Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm,
but willing to draw blood in its defense."
...but is love really?
Love to me is when my little baby smacks me in the teeth
with a metal object and although I want to scream
and strike her back...I do much less...
so as not to inspire fear in her...
even less...I cry...tears flow down my face...
saying nothing at all...in fact...
I turn my head so she will not see my tears...
so she does not know the accidental injury she gave me...
caused me so much pain...

I was going to pray for peace on earth today...
hoping there would even be an earth tomorrow
for my children and grandchildren to grow up in…
looking for some kind of something to hang onto..
searching for memories to give me the words to say….

It could be tomorrow…or the end in a hundred years...
but I am still here because a little baby girl tells me...
I am her best friend under the sea... forever...
For my own selfish reasons...
I also think of what a tragedy it would be...
to leave the important work I have left undone...
helping blinded souls to see without eyes...
but still I find myself sometimes barely hanging on
to my belief that love will conquer all...
trying hard to not become jaded… still believing...
one or two human beings with love as their intention
can truly make a difference.

but I have empathy for the little ones...
who want only to play and meet new friends…
Mostly they speak languages other than mine...
Their childhood is often taken from them by guns...
drugs… wars and their bombs…
hunger and thirst…
Today I feel my comfort is at their cost
of so many tears coming from the almost invisible
children of this world...lost to loving kindness…
living in places where I would never go…
crying out words I can not understand but still
I know what they are saying...

When I am not hungry…I have a greater sense...
of unbelievable cruelty toward food animals....
Senseless pollution... Endless wars...
How could it be with all of the brutality
in the world today… this world's soul is not...aching...groaning...
The earth is pregnant with the tears
of its little ones
turning burning tears to the point of boiling...
then bursting...
into a million…billion parts…
but still...I am thinking of my… needs...
a little girl who wants to be a faerie princess...
who wants to dance with me...
to sing silly childish songs...
who wants me to read...
that Puppy Playtime book to her for the hundredth time...

Who am I to extend the length of time
for the earth's travailing
by praying for it even one more day...
To do so would be praying
for a terminal patient whose eyes can only see the angels in the room
ready to take her home…but for my prayers
begging her to hang on...
for me…and that little baby girl...but today..
I know that I will not pray
words to tilt the earth toward her end either...

I feel for the mother of the 19 year old soldier…
the mother whose son died in Iraq...
his young wife...their child...
all living in Montana…
another baby born into the world without a father...
It reminds me again that I am a father...
many times...
and now...a grandfather...then...
reflecting on the world that we are living in...
I see pools of light come washing back again...
Living on the earth together...
moments of comfort...peace... calm... with the survivors of the fall...
we who remain...
holding in our arms our children and our children's children...
looking into their eyes... hoping but not praying for another dawn.

 

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