Here's a woman of significant real power. She's tiny, beautiful, brilliant, and she tells it like it is.

Here's a woman of significant real power.  She's tiny, beautiful, brilliant, and she tells it like it is.

She is not a head of state.  She's a writer (The God of Small Things) and an activist from India.  Listen to her, there's no way that you won't be moved. Everything she says is from her heart. You can watch her "Come September" speech on my youtube page.  The link is in the left corner of this blog page - in green.  In my powerful women playlist, under the title "wisdom" in 5 parts.  It is worth the time it takes to listen.  She makes me cry and yet she makes my heart sing. Knowing that this woman exists gives me faith in the future. She speaks for all the disenfranchised people in the world. She wants everyone to rethink what they believe is good and right. She reveals the secrets and little known or spoken of realities, that need to be seen in order to make an informed opinion about events and actions taking place every day in the world all around us. 

Hallelujah. Beautiful Jeff Buckley - Sweetest Version of this song ever.

reprise

deepest black midnight
a few coyotes
singing

silent winter

they came today
and shot the coyotes.

the loud popping of the guns
right outside the house
at eight o'clock
in the morning
was a shock.

I listened to them bark every night
their wild free hearts sang to mine.

Tonight, two small yelps and one in the distance
burn through me like ice
and I cannot help but weep

now there will be no song.

goodbye coyotes

8 am
popping guns

silence

they shot the coyotes

Every Only Child Sichuan province earthquake 2008

I look up at the clear blue sky
that belies
the invisible
truth of all things;
within the orb of life
is also death.

just like any other day
the streets filled with bicycles,
the air hung with fragrance
of blooming trees,
the sounds of birds

and the far off
low rumble
approaching...

it is not a sound one forgets,
the sound of fear

like thunder.

the earth's mantle
mercilessly moves
the Himalayas
ever upward into China...
shakes corruptions loose
from their foundations
brings down officials
from their thrones
cripples industry,
buildings,
machines and power
into meaningless,
useless bits of nothing
in the face of catastrophe.
in seconds
everything is decimated,
no roads in
or out.
no safety,
no salvation.

The Tao has come to pass.

The Buddha can not relieve
this suffering
as every only child's
lifeless, bruised fingers
rip the love from their 
mother's and father's hearts
taking their souls
to an enlightenment
you better pray never happens to you.

Afterlife

I once was a poet
then I was a child.
I grew in
towards something undefinable
then out, towards life
and into that as well...

all around the same time
I became reclusive and profoundly lonely
I walked in my father's shoes
with my heart permanently torn up
it was easy, I never tried a day in my life to be sad.
but the fact remains 
that I am.

I once was a poet,
first and only,

I put the water in the pot

Hallelujah
my four walls
hallelujah
the roof and doors
hallelujah

I put the water 
in the pot
I set it on the stove
hallelujah

I breathe the air
and sit on the step
with no place to go
my life seems so easy 
in the blink of a eye
but you don't really know
what I've seen
or where I been
no you don't know
what I know

hallelujah
my four walls
hallelujah
the roof and doors 
hallelujah

turn wise
the faces all around me
redeem yourselves
men of ages
bring truth
to its rest with
love
step down off the throne 
of despotism and
dig your fingers in the dirt
hallelujah


mark no pages in books
quote no gospel
prove naught
look on with and step into
compassion
bring forth courage
hallelujah


I breathe the air
and sit on the step
with no place to go
my life seems so easy 
in the blink of a eye
but you don't really know
what I've seen
or where I been
no you don't know
what I know

so, I say
Hallelujah
my four walls
hallelujah the roof   
and doors.