Nothing will ever be ‘alright’, not the day, nor the night..
There are better words that we could use to describe our time..
If only we could appreciate it as much as we do these fun rhymes..
No amount of ‘really’s or amount of ‘stuff’ will ever be enough…
Because either we’re enjoying our precious moments, accepting changes as they come..
Or we’re upset over others being upset, and while everyone is yelling, still no movement forward gets done..
We all share more than our small and often simplistic differences…
From the fact that we all have bodies and need air, to the fact that we all have but a small amount of fresh water to share..
These commonalities could become catastrophic, and for many they have been for years…
The reasons we protest, crying for our shared futures, as outside forces make uneducated choices…
I believe there are far more descriptive words that we could be using for this time…
Legends have spoke of a great change, along with it a lesson for the world…
Those great teachers came, in the form of our youngests, and are loud with their tears and messages to share..
During this time many fight, while others observe, as is their duty to watch and preserve..
The road forward will be difficult, as things need to come undone before they can be rebuilt…
But buried like seeds, the collective army of ancestors have kept their word…
We are all part of the great change, the fire breathing bird…
Setting a blaze to the old, in order to rebuild the new…
Our description for this time is hard, but necessary, and it’s a duty that is shared..
Because we are all leaving someone behind, relative or friend..
Because we are all connected to each other, and to this land..
Because we see the problems that no one has taken ownership on..
Because personal responsibility is a fundamental part of belonging to the great mother..
Because in our heart, we are supposed to care for one another…
This is why we need to find the right words to describe this time together.
No lesson should be forgotten, as our indigenous ancestors have reminded..
The stories and legends are needed, as they help guide us all through..
So as we make peace with our troubled past and difficult passage..
And make sustainable progress towards the future..
Let us not forget how far we have come, alone, together, and united. – EM

I have seen the future of our world.
I have seen the sunrise of tomorrow.
I have seen Muslims shake hands with Christians.
I have seen hope buried beneath the rubble in Aleppo.
I have seen a world
come full circle
back into each other's arms,
like two lover's
that are meant to be together,
but have been at war for so long
they can't remember why.
I have looked into the eyes
of all God's creatures
and have seen that spark.
That light
that shines so brilliantly
it must be a soul.
Because nothing else
fuels that kind of hope.
Nothing else stops you
dead in your tracks
and makes you see
that we are all one.
We are all connected.
To each other,
and to this beautiful planet
we call home.
If more people
stared into the eyes
of the people they hated,
maybe we wouldn't
erase hate altogether,
but we would
strengthen tolerance.
Maybe then
we would stop
dehumanizing each other,
and start complimenting
each other instead.
Maybe our children
wouldn't come home
from school crying,
or in trouble
because they want
to build a wall,
or send Muslims
back to Islam.
Maybe,
our daughters
wouldn't have to worry
about being "*******"
by men
because her skirt
was just to short.
I have seen the future.
The future doesn't
look like this present.
The future is bright.
The future is ready for peace.

Wheat fields wave across the meadow
bright yellow 'neath a sky of blue
Beautiful swaths of sun bleached straw
cut down long before their due


So like the children of our city
colored yellow, red, brown and gold
Living out their lives in dog years
struck down long before they're old


This sickness flows through our land
leaving the helpless and despaired
Where all are made to be thrown out
none are saved or even repaired


When the silent spring finally comes
and all the birds are in a museum
We'll sell our birthright for a song
so children can pay to see them


Then all the beauty will be gone
as our grandchildren run out to play
Not under blue or across the green
but in the trash from yesterday

Tate