We are not world flags. We are the folks of a spinning circle in a galaxy called Milky Way at this moment of time and space and place and race across somewhere—where happening things are alive until the tilling of another world spins and again calls us to flesh the blood of spirit’s chance-dance and laughter.
Without flag draped victims of victor less victories; are chances taken when nothing remains saved snuffed children and the bang-bang masks of parental tears and fears found and known and in a never-forgotten place when lighted ways of tight bright guns of another day shine against a starless sky of silenced grief when crying silently stops?
This is the non-flagged world of living things—where a lamb does sleep within the safe touch of lion strength and length and the roar of peace is the call of timeless harmony and another rhythm of another rock as stones roll toward valley deep and…Where no kills are justified and justice crosses no blind alley or fear or tear touches courted reasons to ‘shoot-not-shoot’—but to speak in the words of flesh same and blood red and compete completely through both understanding and care.
We are not flags of folly. We are not creations of memorial mistakes and made markers by ‘bombs early light’ and gun flashes as bullets night-fly to shatter dreams and hopes and pride as life start/stops too soon and family through sorrow also flies away to something just beyond reaches and the notions of together days of tomorrow’s futures and memories of yesterday’s today.
Our children and we—as child-speak and drink and think and dancing songs and rhythm beats of drum and spirit and smile; do search the identity of identity search as flesh survives despite the spirit’s knowing of the knowledge of a universe of time and space. We crawl toward accepting the acceptance of fate and the together strength in our cave homes. We also run toward the individual hope of ourselves without shells and reasons to become other than the self of us and me and you and I and justice time…
We are not flags or notions or reasons to kill or die. We wear different packages of cloth and color and need and we all bleed red same—as liquid and air mix and body same moves across these places or other spaces in motions to exist together without pride or prejudice or of religions to-take-to-hate or to replace irreplaceable life. Also remember that—Poverty is never a crime—Greed is however; the Crime against all Humanity.
Again and Again: “Go ahead and hate your neighbor—Go ahead and cheat a friend—Do it in the name of heaven— You could justify it in the end—There won’t be any trumpets blowing—Come the judgment day—On the bloody morning after—One Tin Soldier rides away.”
—by Joni Mitchell
And! Beautiful you are…
‘Home’ by Unsun