When men brought him the Pandora's box, guns, the angel of "light,"
The "innocent and perfect" of all love, armed himself to the teeth,
To bestow such "safety,"  around children when armed, allows us to risk
The lives of all while the just "feel safer" having one, "less likely harmed,"
He is enlightened of all things and kills to survive, lives by the sword,
But "can not die, will not die." He is the advent of all this and more,
And he started this practically perfect way of staying safer in order
To find more "dangerous targets," even children, to shoot at in war.

Mind and spirit, the principle of human being...
This is not what one has known to be simple,
Yet advanced as we are, the truth still eludes,
An everyday individual, yet what are they?
Simplicity is found in the reality of our youth,
Is this life just  a concept of time and space?
Were we really brought here by some sort of
Alien space ship, or a genetic miracle master race?
I wouldn't assume anything. Sitting under the pine tree,
You can see every last hue as perfect, as real as time made
It out to be, just as light takes time to reach you,
Was brought to your eyes so you could truly see,
See that which is actually a part of you and me.
To be one with environment, you see the unruly storm,
You see the hot dust of the desert, you see the ice of
The glacier, the mountain and it's frosty height, or the
Beautiful garden and all it's delights, if you can
Look closely, a person falls asleep, dreaming,

*You can see it all living within their being...

Always the flow of water-across muddy banks and
Passages into lakes filled with the essence of nature,
Pulling tides and the smell of alpine, hickory wood and
firn. Always the flow of water-ever passive, trance state,
Picking up speed it rushes, like the sound of blood rushing
Through the earths veins, towards endless vinyards and orchards,
Cascading over cliffs like sparkling mist, into ravines and it continues
On. Into the forest, into the pines and the sage brush-not thinking,
Quick to find solace in this mid-morning dew, this canopy, deer hide.
Continue to be cloaked by the grass and thistle, branches and vines,
Not stopping, ever hiding in it-never looking back until reaching that
One point where it is certain that the past concrete, cement and steel,
Are but a thing of memories of tragic times to be kept so forever, never
Looking back, never to return or see them again until the very world ends.*

Always the tide of stream water, endless in the universe, it's strength,
And it's endless source, that source, from which all life flows...

Each day the world grows less sane, less safe,
Each day the pollution fills this world with dry air,
Each day children are subjected to noise pollution,
Smoking, cars, madness and broken households,
Each day the world grows more careless of these things,
More unwilling to change, less interested in actual solutions,

This moment all will come to an end with an endless sky

Every moment less pollution increases her will
Every moment the moon's halo is becoming vivid
Every moment the clouds are smooth as silk
Every moment we take one step closer to saying goodbye
Every moment we are given more air to breath, greener hills
Every moment is another step closer to nature, to life*

After 2000 years, such irony, so much beauty, such amazing truth...

If I ask you what you think about who's in charge,
You say it's not my need to question,
To so quickly be the opposition of the one who
Fed us, clothed us, kept our home clean,
As well as kept locks on everything we'll need
In life to truly succeed. It's not to question.
When I ask you what you think of the score,
You say: "The fault lies in your hands, you are
The punk, (the riff-raff) the failure, the defeatist,"
The bold way men always do things, "*** 'er done!"
That's how it's meant to be, like a Ford commercial,
That and big tires, big guns, big on war, (big on
Everyone falling in line to be what society wants)
Very low on counter-destruction, love, solutions,
Being the key to our problems, communications,
On a small note doesn't seem to save anyone,
Can not solve any threat, and can't solve terrorism,
Hate, misery, and loneliness. From a long view, the "big"
Answer you give me, I still must confess, I disagree,
And big daddy tells us we can make change, in a world
Full of musty traditionalism, societies duality, he makes sure that
"Anyone can see" it's "always been possible for you and me."

Her short hair glimmered, her eyes frantic,
like a deer in the middle of the grass,
her hands at her sides and a small jacket on
as she continued down the dusty path.
Her arms are soft, delicate like feathers
placed around her amidst small floating leaves.
She stood in the sunlight, with lost letters written
mis-spelled out all across her hand in pen of ink.
But still she had to move on, a young man stood
in front of her like a quick spoiled cat, he was dark,
a strange boy with eyes brown and hair solid black,
I still think about this, stuck on grass green parks,
like autumn days, all the wonder and moments we shared.