RELEVANCE

What makes a dream a dream?
When does it come true? Our hearts
rest on these things,
this is where our pride comes from.
Even strong men shed tears.

There are many great men
with great messages, but how many of
these will pale in comparison
to those who will come later—
or even those whose voices are still rising?
How much of today
will remain unburied?
And how little do we expect it?

(21 June 2007)

OUR STORY

I’m still here—we both wait expectantly.
It’s always a little strange,
but there is still laughter.
There are few sounds
out there, more happiness, a river that curves
but not away from itself.
The ancient command of love
becomes involuntary. Some day,
everywhere will be like this—
the white and black chest pressed together.

I’m still here.

(16 June 2007)

FINDING OUR WAY

1
I look at most faces reverently.
Some look back
the same way.
But the eyes of others
are sad. They say, “I don’t know,”
and I am sorry for them.
Some see my hand or my face
and think I know it all. I just want
to help a little.

2
There is little sleep
for us tonight, all the outposts
have no lights to guide us.
The nightblindness
will keep our caravan moving,
but we won’t be able
to track our progress until morning comes.

3
There’s something not right here.
It’s not cold, but still…not right.
Matchsticks instead of mountains—and,
even now, they’re burned to their ends.
But the smoke says, “In time,
things will be different, I promise.”

(16 June 2007)

WHAT ABOUT SATURDAY?

It’s a quiet life here in the capital village,
at least compared to bigger villages—or even
small cities. But things still somewhat follow
a schedule every day. Still, it depends on
who you’re talking to.
Monday through Friday
are usually work and school days.
Sunday is loosely reserved
for the Lord. So you ask, “What about Saturday?”
And someone says, “Oh, no—
Saturday is set aside for funerals.”
There are lots of them here.

(10 June 2007)