I have been a woman,
and I have been a man,
and I have had husbands,
and I have had wives.
I see the past in the present,
and I honour the present.
Living ever passingly upon the abode of stranger’s welcomes,
with no safe place or sanctuary,
we of our family have no assets but our living bodies and minds,
without wealth but for what love has touched our lives and what light has guided our spirits.
We must labour though we know our labours are futile and unnecessary but for the liquidity that vouch safes our days.
the brother-hood of man is no such poet’s dream,
it is the actuality of life,
painful barren raw,
the eternal birthing of being,
the vast ocean of infinite and empty space,
its tide so cold and silent,
washing up upon the naked earth.
Our heart’s,
too much like fragile flowers,
exposed and alone in the cold of night,
yearning for the sun, and failing in the frost.
It is the warrior that abides in the present.
the courage to be real,
centered,
focused,
now. To hold up the light, to live with a defiantly open heart, overflowing with compassion and love.
