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The Unfolding

Page 4

by Sha'Ra On WindWalker

order, they say:

  what hypocrisy, I say.

  Every one of these

  takes the lion’s share of the collective wealth;

  treats himself to demigod status;

  exploits, oppresses, frightens

  the innocent, the weak, the ignorant

  making front page news

  with their victims in tow.

  These human spiders

  weave an endless web

  of fear and treachery;

  a web we must all intersect

  at some point in time.

  Renewal

  Eagerly awaited, she arrives;

  her sun shines through mist

  rising gently from a hidden lake.

  Her breath buoys our wings,

  lifting us high into the skies;

  her rain nourishes our lands

  and heals our thirsting souls -

  she is the Spring Maiden!

  Her love surrounds us

  whether high on rocky hills

  or down in silent green valleys:

  she awakens all our senses

  to the beauty and joy

  she sheds without measure

  over this fair land:

  we know her season -

  behold the Spring Maiden!

  She walks the path of the rainbow

  arching across rolling clouds

  bringing back the sun;

  drying away tears of sadness

  whispering happiness and hope

  in birds' songs and breezes

  brought from the open sea:

  it's the season of the Spring Maiden!

  Responsibility

  A man sets forth on his journey

  as newly fallen snow drifts eerily around

  spreading in waves over a rugged land

  unmarked by trail or track.

  In slanted radiance, the pale noonday sun

  breaks through graying skies,

  splashing through white winter's silence

  and for a brief moment

  he senses a breath of spring from afar,

  a memory of green leaves touches him.

  As he ponders his choices and direction,

  squinting in the landscape's brightness,

  the wind whispers in the hood of his parka;

  a voice which penetrates to his soul:

  "Your life is much like stepping forth

  through these drifting snows.

  Tread carefully on their unsigned paths

  lest ye lose yourself in this labyrinth

  or lest some less experienced ones

  seek to follow in your bold steps,

  for as you know the shelter of the trees leaves a trail:

  anyone fool enough to may well follow

  your first steps etched on the edge of the forest.

  These may sadly come to grief, or meet with death.

  Remember that not even in this great wilderness

  is a man an island unto himself... You

  are still your brother's keeper out here

  alone on these wind-swept ridges."

  Return To Paradise

  Sex, a commodity, a means of support,

  instant gratification of lustful passion,

  yes, instant... and instantly lost:

  must it always be that way?

  What have humans failed to recognize

  when indulging in sexual pleasure?

  An ageless Woman says wisely,

  I wouldn't have sex with you if you asked -

  sex fulfils neither you nor me.

  Are you willing to let down your defenses?

  Can you share all the love you have known,

  all the love you know, or could know -

  with me in one moment of passion?

  Do you want to transform one moment

  into an eternity of knowing?

  Would you know me? A yes is enough.

  Love waits for no one.

  Reverence

  From the dried skeleton

  of a hardwood tree

  he lovingly carves

  a life-like sculpture.

  In humble thankfulness

  for this natural bounty

  he plants a new seed:

  his own gift to the land,

  a simple exchange of life.

  Such reverence for life

  presages man's re-discovery

  of unity in a living world,

  re-kindles human hope

  soaring beyond thought

  of mere survival.

  Rich Text

  They say I’m a budding poet -

  OK, I admit

  Some buds take a bit longer

  To open and bloom -

  But just because

  I’m only at the beginning,

  Don’t think I’m stupid:

  For example,

  I figured out the simplicity

  Of getting extra bucks

  for my wonderful words:

  From now on,

  I’m saving all my work

  In rich text format -

  No calling me “cheap” now.

  Roads That Go Nowhere

  Pavement stretches for miles

  in endless series of criss-crossing puzzles

  that used to lead where man touched

  all of life with his Midas hands,

  dipped in wishes of oil and steel...

  covering, choking, filling

  a once vibrant soil springing

  with delicate plants, healing herbs,

  mighty trees and wildlife roaming free.

  Rusting carcasses of dead dreams

  now inhabit an inhospitable, forsaken world

  invaded, cornered, strangled, choked

  by the poisons of progress

  as defined by man's leadership

  and slavish obedience to lifeless rules.

  Ages have passed, and now behold!

  True tranquillity, untainted beauty

  blending in majestic harmony

  are found again upon the earth,

  scarred land, polluted air, decimated wildlife,

  healed, cleansed, free once more.

  Scents of wild flowers and newly formed leaves

  travel the breezes throughout the earth,

  announcing peace and wholesomeness

  to all that cares to listen.

  But of man who closed his heart to life's pain,

  no one is left to hear the news

  of earth's joyful renewal.

  Roots Of Love: Passion

  Summer's sudden passing

  retains a lingering breeze:

  leaves fall to rest gently upon dormant soil;

  electric blue skies display new symbols:

  v-shapes in white wings pointing south.

  I wonder: has this season's flow

  of spring and summer love perished?

  Or flown south also in migration?

  Will it return with the sun of spring

  when the land re-awakens another season?

  Or is it that in every spring breeze

  there is a birth of new love in passion

  driven to grow and mature

  then blend once more within earth's soil

  before the advent of winter's harsh storms?

  Deep within I seek the answer:

  I look without fear, anger or regret

  in each moment of darkness faced,

  in each fear overcome,

  in every footstep walked on barren ground,

  in every sound of mocking laughter -

  And what do I see now?

  The times I allowed passion

  to grow powerfully within my heart,

  strengthening my desire to know,

  to understand and to love;

  sending these down as roots

  deep within the collective unconscious.

  That is what keeps my love

  alive, renewed, vibra
nt

  through each change of season.

  For once I sought love for its own sake

  but now love is what I am..

  Sacred Dance

  Arousal from the caress of gentle hands:

  soft skin becoming firm;

  two beings sharing energy

  in a surging flow of love

  from one body to another,

  a sacred dance of the heart,

  a moment of pleasure,

  a spark of joy released.

  When love-making reaches

  the point of orgasmic bliss;

  when with tears and knowing

  they bond together,

  body to soul, soul to body,

  lying on soft green moss,

  reveling in their earthly energy,

  their unbound power:

  is this not one of the highest ways

  two could ever honour

  God,

  Creator,

  Mother,

  Earth

  in short, Life?

  Sadness

  Sadness

  as of rain on pavement

  bouncing over cold, bare feet:

  Sadness

  as of death on pavement

  blood from a small rabbit

  crushed by a wheel,

  Big Wheel

  rolling

  uncaring

  killing

  unaware:

  Sadness

  as of a girl child on pavement

  holding out flowers

  to passer-by's

  flowers fading

  flowers dying

  unwanted

  unloved

  as the child:

  Sadness

  as of a line of grey limos

  headlights on

  driving

  rolling

  taking

  death to

  appointed graveyard assignment.

  Sadness

  as of spirit

  observing a dying creation:

  Sadness

  as of paradise paved

  killing fields turned to profit

  dying

  under bulldozer and hammer

  crushing

  grinding

  slamming

  re-shaping:

  Sadness

  deep, deep

  reaching to hell

  and heaven

  crying

  raising angry fists

  kneeling in the dirt

  hands raised, opened

  to ward the blows

  Sadness

  as of tears

  streaking hollowed cheeks

  crying in pain:

  Sadness

  as of a brother

  turned away to die.

  Seasons

  Crises in life,

  cause winter-like seasons of pain:

  barren, lifeless, hopeless

  seem those endless days,

  yet winter can be a warm blanket

  for those whose roots

  find their way through the stones

  and run deep within the earth.

  Winters come and winters go,

  each one creating new strength

  in some non-anticipated way,

  each one full of healing balm.

  Difficult seasons revive faith;

  sharpen spiritual awareness,

  toughen the will,

  harden the muscles.

  How much are they

  like gnarled roots anchored deep

  within a changing earth!

  Shadow Beings

  Predators:

  shadow beings,

  shadow systems

  controlling worlds

  through the power of fear,

  casting dark clouds:

  distrust, anger, hate

  all resulting in violence,

  needless suffering

  death.

  Earth is such a place,

  make no mistake!

  But how many

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