Silence is the Healer

Parentsland (Peace is Our Release)

A little boy lay sleeping wrapped in blankets,

a white band of cloth ’round his head.

The grass by the concrete walkway

his mother marches on

is comfort – a temporary bed.

The band had a message that read “One” -

“There isn’t time to redo what we’ve done”.

 

The message could read “Fatherland”

or it could be “Motherland”

(we’re) responsible for meeting their demands.

Protest won’t unite in Parentsland.

 

Cutting through the red tape of the

city streets and parks to justify

the violence that goes on.

They build more bombs to bring us peace,

yet cannot buy our release

when all that we’ve built is dead and gone.

The message here is clear, it is “One.”

We take what is the child’s and have left none.

 

Conspiracies of silence don’t communicate.

The action is to pass and renunciate

- to come toward a solution, to meditate.

Banners, pickets, hunger won’t alleviate.

Just be a parent to the child that we create -

 

Protest won’t unite in Parentsland.

 

 

The Impossible Sky

 

Suspended from a skyhook, an Old World Lark

is out of reach, can’t conceive, in the dark.

Soaring through the skywaves, vault the arch

clearest welkin cover, vault the sky march.

In God’s home, listen for the silence.

Let the whispers of infinity flow in your ear.

Let the eyes on the back of your head help you to hear

His messages, which will come so clear.

 

Life is a liquid flowing in time.

Life is a journey down the skyline.

As we slide through the slipstream clouds,

feet turn into knees.

The only way to capture what you need is to seize.

Crawling, languid, seeking complacency in flight.

Only in our blindness, brightest sun, do we see night.

 

A destiny is a spiritual drama in which we seek the why.

And though we are so crippled,

we can move toward the sky

- the impossible sky – darling, we can do it if we try!

Drift free, fly – till we’re all sky-high.

Fly.–

 

 

Pushing Water

(as sung from high on a hill on a windy day)

 

What’s the point in pushing water?

It all comes back to you.

You can move it, but where does it get you?

It can move you, but where can you go?

 

Let the pushing of the waves confront.

Let the force of my words be blunt.

Let it run through your hands

and feel it for what it is.

 

We’re all so blind and willingly wear

the blinders given us, but can we dare

to dance when we should be sleeping?

To soar away with no worries or cares.

 

I got this idea that when I’m old

I’ll not be left out in the cold

or set adrift on open sea

I’ll be tossing waves outside of me.

 

The sleepingman spots me on the horizon.

The clover has turned from a head to a tailspin.

Givings freed from the wound that is opened.

My rhythm’s held tight for there’s no gap to breathe in.

 

I’m pushing the water out of the womb

catching a glimpse of the one sweet tomb

pushing the change of the earth’s last phase

pausing in one of its hesitant ways.

 

 

Making Fun of Pain

 

Breathe until you drop dead.

Break the spell that’s in your head.

You’ll see the sparks will fly away

until the Earth is round.

Again, you’ll find the black meets white.

 

Then you’ll stop making fun of pain.

You’ll find the truth can help you find the way.

The world is so fragile.

Stop causing it pain… recycle.

 

Believe the truth has come at last

to break the patterns of the past.

You’ll find the God within heals

and takes the pain away.

Now you can go on to the next life

(with no kharma to…)

 

Consciousness will reveal

that we cannot truly feel

the way the Earth can move

us to the stars

a-way to find the planet Mars.

 

 

Let Me Go to a Higher Plane

 

I stand at the edge of the circle.

Waves, though shallow, slap at my feet.

Sorting the times of my lifetimes

I know this is the last,

though evil souls dance on every side.

 

Surrounding myself with a pure white light

I’ll never give up the fight

now in flight.

Let me go to a higher plane.

 

Swirls of light show your face.

Could you be someone I’ve known?

Are you part of the present, the past?

 

And now I’m at the center, aglow.

Forces pulling from below.

I feel temptation, the luring jest

and I have so much to confess to you.

Faces come so pure and yet

(the) darkness I can’t forget.

 

Swirls of light melt from my hands.

The moon is there at my command.

It tells me just what I should do.

It’s led me through the light to you.

It’s cleansed me in the ocean deep.

It’s given me secrets

I can’t keep to myself.

 

I came so close to dying;

tried to hide the darkness away.

All that saved me was running

through the wet fields with the moonlight

splashing on my hair.

Cast off the dark, crawling spirits,

so low in a black mist of the night

waiting to take me away.

Let me go to a higher plane.

 

So, let me go to a higher plane.

Let me go.

Let me go to a higher plane!

Higher and higher and higher

till the Light has taken my soul.

Till I’m so high that God is down below.

 

 

Intolerance

 

Crawl and then stand, ending up walking;

bodies are bent from the pain of the fall.

Start with a stammer, ending up talking

losing our teeth once we’ve said it all.

Fathers die, good men become thieves.

The friendless stay hungry.

Our dear one leaves.

 

Seduced by the green lights and the master of slums,

the babies are taken by religious judges.

Condemned to their deaths, they cannot save

our poor souls from the gallows’ grave.

We die without knowing and can’t confess -

robbed, tortured and distressed.

 

Social injustice!

[Man's inhumanity to man]

Social injustice!

[Man's inhumanity to man]

 

Continue in transition, dear one

to and fro, we rock like a dime

just as we’re trapped (in time)

dictated by the clock.

The loom of fate is weaving more and more

for us to live and learn

and through love’s struggle perseveres.

The candle ever burns.

It ever burns.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking

Out of the cradle

hatred, intolerance battle love and charity.

 

Hatred. Intolerance!

injustice – battle love and charity.

intolerance!

injustice – battle love and charity.

intolerance!

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking.

Out of the cradle of the present

Out of the cradle of yesterday

Out of the cradle of the past

Out of the cradle of the reticent

Out of the cradle of yesterday

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking

 

The loom of fate weaves more.

 

 

The Awakening

[inspired by “The Blue Bird“]

 

I burn the candle at both ends

in the forest where the lights go

when they are blown out.

My life could be the story

so beautiful from beginning to end.

But instead it stings my senses,

awakening in me

emotions so long dormant, so seldom seen.

It’s the flashing light of the awakening.

 

And this is the palace of happiness.

And these are the days of the daydream.

Go on to the night of the bedlam.

“Oh gaffer! Your blackbird is blue.”

Sound the note of infinity -

the note of a fragile phantasy.

So all the world’s a song.

It’s the war inside that tries to take me

and the helpless feeling God can’t wake me.

This black foul!

It’s the flashing light of the awakening.

 

Water cleans it all away.

Monster dreams disappear when the light comes on.

Rulers of my destiny

go away when I release them to the wind.

I’m drugged by fools! This black foul!

Weighted with malevolence!

This black foul!

Till I create no more.

 

When with the awakening, they let me live.

Let me live – truer to myself.

 

This moment contains all the love.

This moment contains all the hate.

 

 

Silence (is the Healer)

 

I am the ghost, the ghost of war

and I can feel the pain no more

and now I observe, I haven’t a prey.

I’m just shadowing the lives

standing in my way.

 

We sent our troops in harm’s way.

Few will live to fight another day.

I was a ravaged angel in the storm

and now I’m home, safe and warm.

 

Silence is the healer…

to inspire the better angels of our nature.

With these gifts, the harm’s in us.

Yet prayer can overcome.

Let the doors they open open doors for you.

 

Out of nothing

I’ll always rise above it all

and traffic in souls that reinvent time.

I am the daughter of the gods

and I know where I stand.

I harbour no remorse, no bloodlet

on my hand—

Silence!

 

The wounds lie deep, but tomorrow renews

and with that promise, we can’t lose.

 

 

Reckless

 

All lies! – I’m reckless, so reckless.

No ties! – I’ve been reckless, too reckless.

 

I was so careless; (I) wistfully wasted all of my time.

I was such a mess; (I) wastefully shattered the rungs of my foolish climb.

How deep the wounds lie!

I seek but still can’t find a Higher Power!

With the strength that is borne inside of my mind.

 

Where is my humility?

I can’t take the insanity!

I still can’t justify

why they take an eye for an eye.

 

All lies! – I’m reckless, so reckless.

No ties! – I’ve been reckless, too reckless.

I was so crippled – I needed healing, the touch of the kind.

(I) couldn’t find success – the more that I tried,

the farther I got behind.

At the dead of day…

I stumbled to bed, empty inside.

But hey! I lived on the edge, nearing suicide.

 

Now I’ve got a firmer grip

to keep me from the slightest slip.

Slings and arrows fly and miss

and now I’m strong, I can resist.

Healing memories…

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