It Is A Grief Over The Fate

We Are The Bird's Eggs. Bird's Eggs, Flowers, Butterflies, Rabbits, Cows, Sheep, We Are Caterpillars; We Are Leaves Of Ivy And Springs Of Wildflower. We Are Women. We Rise From The Wave. We Are Gazelle And Doe, Elephant And Whale, Lilies And Roses And Peach, We Are Air, We Are Flame, We Are Oyster And Pearl, We Are Girls. We Are Woman And Nature. And He Says He Cannot Hear Us Speak. But We Hear.

At The Museum A Troubled Woman Destroys A Sand Painting Meticulously Created Over Days By Tibetan Monks. The Monks Are Not Disturbed. The Work Is A Meditation. They Simply Begin Again.

It Is A Grief Over The Fate Of The Earth That Contains Within It A Joyful Hope, That We Might Reclaim This Earth.

One Can Find Traces Of Every Life In Each Life.

Poetry Is A Good Medium For Revolutionary Hope.