There is a reason why, always
a reason for everything. A stranger's advice
from younger years, greeting
the first waking hours of a Coyote Ugly.
Clumsily, someone somewhere messily greets
self-reliance, loving and letting go.

Another default smoke and mirrors chain
of lists, pennies, trains into
this point in history, why
herstory is buried under
rug after rug, and
her many unborn names.

There is a reason, some always sing.
Why even the most bloodthirsty Roman fears
a simple young man, speaking foolish about
life being turned against itself--poisoning its own children.

Another default zero-sum day for all this young blood,
Icing of Magic Sugar. Yet some would say,
like a warning. There is a reason
for all our civilised education, fast calculations,
our entertaining freedoms.

Our intruders fear children growing up
from the manufactured past, a terrifying beauty
that forces the ego to face its own ragged abyssmal bride-soul:
our nuts and bolts, unmanned towers and planes,
wires and frequencies escalating
into a clashing. Calling to sleeping wisdom,
claim this terrible machine of blind sight
and weak strength. Cast away illusions,
and come Home.

Peoples forgetting and abandoning many strengths
for tricks and branded promises
too easily. Beautifully unprepared, desperately new,
and summoned by its time.

From stories of many lost villages
that met with big men and machines of attack:
A fighter recalls with lost travelers
how enemy troops have captured young fighters
because they could not recognize
the voice of their true leader.



-Inspired by Lord Of The Flies. In response to a friend's poem about survival and recovery from multi-generational childhood trauma and abuse.