Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,
let's not speak in any language;
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,'
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I'll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

from **Extravagaria

The owl and the ***** cat
Were out having tea
After a simple beach side walk

The owl took out a guitar
And sang to kitty brash, kneeled
Before her Crimson chair

A sweet  romantic ballad it was
Yet ***** cat was too busy
Observing  owl and noticing
What a dainty meal he'd make.

Interrupting his declarations
She stole him away
Under the starry  midnight  sky

Whereupon in the woods
Her claws she unsheathed
And silenced his poetic  *display

The beauty of a living thing
Is part of Nature’s plan
So a flower in the garden
Is worth two in the hand.
PwL 5/29/15