For though we might,

We cannot fight the wind;

Try as we may,

The mist eludes our grasp;

Shadows defy our clutches,

Rainclouds form,

The sun and moon rise and set

Despite our will;

Controlling nothing,

Still we do not see,

And frame our lives with an order

That is illusion,

Timetables and inventories

Of ignorance;

Labels and times and convenience

We set in stone that crumbles

Like sand before the winds

Of Impermanence;

Change is the symphony,

And fluid the score

Of this dharmakayic waltz,

And though we dance

We fancy ourselves but

Onlookers to the show;

That when the crashing finale

Resounds -- as it must --

We stop our ears and wail;

Not seeing, deaf to the choir

That has but turned the page

To sing a new song;

Our own melody ended,

We fade only to be played anew

From the string of another bow;

The song goes on, rising, falling,

And Bliss is the one

Who follows as the Piper leads

With Namu Amida Butsu.

Heartless machines are men.
Cold. Calculating. Cruel.
Humanity died with the creation of bankers.

Land makes a person.
Land makes a home.
Land makes a family.
How could anyone knowingly take that away and still possess a soul?
How could anyone knowingly destroy that without losing all of themselves in the process?
They can't.

Tearing down homes, ripping the fertile ground to shreds -
Only monsters can ignore the Earth's cries.
Only demons can force families away from their home and abandon them in the cold grasp of strangers.
Humanity died with the creation of bankers,
And the earth will never forgive that.

"Within each of us
Yes, it's under the surface
Is a land of mystery
Just waiting to be explored ."

I am a shepherd,
My land is endless wold;
There is a thought in my mind,
Which feeds sheeps with fine grass,
My hometown is as silent as a stork,
Which emigrates to lost worlds,
To sense hotness again,
I see their belief.

Why is it so hard to breathe
with feet planted on dry land?
What chains itself tight in
our throats?
Can you flee until your limbs
snap?
Can you run from the raindrops
before they fall?
Maybe one day the sun will shine
on a candid smile
Maybe on day we won't feel as if we
are tossed about in dark waters
And maybe, one day, we will feel at home
on dry land.

-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-