Smoke That Thunders

victoria falls

It’s the first day of March here in Kansas City,

and there’s a few inches of snow on the ground.

The temperature is around 30 degrees,

the sky is cloudy and overcast.

Rays of light from the nearest star

are illuminating half of my Mother’s face,

tearing the gray mist of the air to shreds,

touching each fleeting and perfect crystal

of frozen H2O

with all the tenderness and passion of Krishna,

breathing life into the earth,

dancing with the pine trees like so many virgin maids,

their ballroom gowns translucent white and swirling;

playing and leaping

and pouring like Mosi-oa-Tunya

into my astonished eyes.

Re-write

man universe

As I look around me, day to day,

I see so many radiant God-beings

Acting out bit parts

In some dark comic-tragedy…

 

Their roles so narrowly defined,

Their lives so carefully confined.

 

But my eyes see through the assumed persona.

My soul softly whispers to you…

Awaken Spirit!

 

Lay down your role,

Re-write the script!

Add some light and love

And laughter.

 

No one decides your fate but you.

As you believe, so it is.

 

The future isn’t fixed –

It’s being formed.

What we choose must come to be –

Why don’t we choose peace?

 

~ Ben