At the End of Wars – Our Common Sun

The world’s aflame.
With the insanity of change,
Looted hopes and dreams,
Dignity and solidarity – our charred remains.
What will we do, you and I,
with the crumbling ash of humanity,
cradled in the cusp of our hands?
Do you remember the love you were born with?
When first cry merged with life’s oxygen,
And your soul met creation?
Who’s the predator, who’s the prey,
when we’re all made of flesh and bone and hearts that bleed.
With, mothers, brothers, lovers, mouths to feed…
At the end of all wars,
The birds will sing, the fields wash green again,
Clouds drift by as they always have and always will.
Then the trees will grow,
Out of the mothers, brothers, friends, and lovers we have slain.
Standing testament to how we’re all the same.
See, we may fail at love and beauty,
but love and beauty remain
As eternal potentials
inspite of greed and unkind deeds…
Have you ever stopped to think,
On greater truths?
That perhaps there is no I or you, no individuation.
That perhaps, the Universe doesn’t think in pronouns…
But lives and breathes a shared continuation…
Where we’re all ash and seeds, and ash again,
Birth and Death
carried by the breeze of life
going on despite our creeds.
Consciousness rising,
towards a common sun –
the same our ancients gazed upon with shielded eyes.
Side by side through all time.
Will you see the forest for the trees?
And claim Peace as the ever-present seed within?
Beneath the canopy of mortal sins,
is the choice to BE
the love you wish to see
flood in.