If the voices of the voiceless remain unattended to,
In our tomorrow, will there be a dream to run to?
They cry in silence as their dreams are being tattered.
They speak in their heart because their words don't matter.

They didn't ask to be born
But they are here left to tick away like a time bomb.
Those who help them, take away their pride.
Those who ignore them, jest with their strides.


They are made adults before adulthood.
They are made worthless like bitter truth.
They groom their offsprings without a groom.
They are only needed to choose an umbrella or a broom.

My people, what we have seen don't scare like the unseen.
The hate we give today, are just fruitful seeds.
We have their pairs as children and wards.
Yet, we left them for the rain, the sun and the world.

Ain't we worse than the worst virus?
Ain't we creating what will devour us?
Now tell me, if the voices of the voiceless remain unattended to,
In our tomorrow, will there be a dream to run to?

There
be no sting
on the tail of a dove

A soul
knows nothing
of suffering love

Buddha was not the only one who understood the relationship between suffering and nirvana. Jorge Luis Borges once said the most important task of a human being's life was to learn how to transmute pain into compassion. Perhaps every human being, even if unconsciously, spends her/his life doing what Buddha did with his. As everyone knows, it is not an easy journey, but it is vital humanity takes it successfully. For millennia, however, humanity has, for the vast majority of time, failed to make spiritual progress. For example, for the past 3,400 years of recored history, most scholars have found that only 200 of those years could be deemed peaceful;  the rest were fraught with wars after wars after wars. Buddha, Borges, and most of the rest of us wish there were continual Peace on Earth, but sadly we see that sanguine phrase only a couple of weeks a year on Christmas cards.  

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks