Sobbing from the heart
Is the cry of all humanity.
It is the yearning to be free
Of the shackles
That keep us tied to Earth.
It is the pain of separation,
The veil that shuts us from the truth.

We cry - not only for ourselves
But for past and future generations.
It is a longing to return to the Oneness
within which all is known.

We create the pain
In order to release it
Back to the Universe
It allows us to be free

Dear people, what have you done to the dream?
I stood with so much pride
As the votes were counted one by one,
My heart burst with love as the exiles returned
And my soul was fired with the desire
To fulfil our destiny and return the land
Once again into an oasis of hope.

But what have you done to the dream?
Where is the love the unity and hope?
What have you done to my dream when your sons
Who serve in the army fear that their bullet will strike down
An angry stone wielding youth so full of hate because
Your hearts have become hardened to his needs.

I have walked this land in my dreams
And have seen what we could have had
A  heaven on earth, but what have we got?
A land so full of intolerance not only of enemy against enemy
But of brother against brother.
Money has become G-d, and the banks, temples of worship.
No more is it what can I give, but rather what can I get.

I have walked this land in the guise of an immigrant-
And have taken the 'rights' given to me.
I have walked this land in the guise of an old person,
And have felt the fear of being unwanted and unloved.
And  I have closed my  heart,
And have lost my ability to give love freely.
I have walked  this land in the guise of boys and girls
Who have borne the responsibility of the army
But have mourned my lost youth.
I  have closed myself to my sensitive heart .
And I have walked this land in the guise of men
And women burdened by the system.
The path seems an uphill fight to survive.
I have walked this land in the guise of a politician ,
Offering the solution - only if done my way.
To survive I have wheeled and dealed
And have almost forgotten how to make miracles happen
It is only when crisis strikes and I forget myself,
And remember my brothers and sisters
That I go within and draw from the fountain of strength,
And get a glimpse, once again of what
We as a nation of brothers and sisters can create.

"I'll wait for you,"
when we were kids,
you had said.

But Jack's still comatose
and Jill is dead.

You never came.

He's typing again
About god and the angels
And nonsense
He's always typing
Always murmuring nothing,
Once in a while
I wish he'd get some rest
So I can be alone
And ponder world peace
-Brain

Thursday night beers
Spill onto the bed
For a bit of the old
Rough and tumble,
A quick word with
The angels
And home in time
To really tie one on
As the jazz
Plays somewhere
For someone in love
With a note and
Dying slowly for
The beat, playing their
Story and the story of
The cosmos,
And heaven is there
And you are there
In a red dress and
A smile that starts
Somewhere beyond
Polaris