2 March 2011
She reveals Herself to us
As Her ancient homelands
Erupt in revolution
She speaks through
Many mouths
One truth
They do not call Her Name
But when they call His
She is also there
Faces bared or covered
Arms naked or clothed
Hands raised as one
The March to Freedom
In Her Old Lands
Is His March too
Man and woman, child and adult,
One Spirit, encompassing religion,
Spirituality in the yearning for freedom
And yes, Death stalks the sands
Pours out upon the streets
And the wailing of the women in black
Tears my heart
For the wild children of Freedom’s Call
We sit in the waiting room
Over in the so-called West
Watching the fabled East
With trepidation
Where our mutual sun always rises
Where the moon symbolizes beauty
Where Red Cross and Crescent Moon
Side by side on the Tunisian border
Serve The People
Sharing an old history
We must look up and back
And inward, around and through
To understand where we must stand
The pain, the agony, the torture
Of needs unmet for too long
Human together we shall sing
The Song of Freedom
Hope in Our Time
To hell with vested interests
Just this once, forever,
Can we get it right
All of us
As we face the even greater battle
Ahead, as winds and seas,
The very substance of earth
Also demand justice,
An intelligent response
From a liberated species
wow!
a poem of strength……….. and moving forward with epic force
AH Leona;
What a fine evocation of empathy and hope !
may it encourage all who read here.
wonderful stuff dear Leona,keep it coming!
Leona,
so beautifully written. It evokes so much sadness, anger and beauty.
Ahhhh yes, the result of the great spirit living within this human existance. love and hugs May