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Poem

The struggle is not between 
East and west or
Worst and best, but lies 
On a far more slippery slope
Connecting the cold dark, canopy of night 
With the light of hope. 

The battle rages 
Throughout the ages 
Like wild fire burning 
Grass and trees below 
Mother Earth’s sky blue breeze –
Flames flickering in the shadows 
Surrounding you and me: 

Democracy 
Appears to be languishing 
Between Her majestic beginnings 
And dismal demise
All the while mask faced puppeteers 
Pull the people’s strings 
And blow oceans full of smoke 
Before their naked eyes
Too numb and dumb to question who or
What or why.

As they go the way of Persia,
Egypt, Greece and Rome – 
Lost in greed and glory 
Forgetting God and home:
Foundation of freedom, 
Liberty and dreams of higher realms
Where enlightened men once  
Stood taller than eagles dare 
And cast their hope filled spell
Very nearly everywhere
People cried, forsaken, died while 
The hands of sweet Liberty lifted them up
And filled their cups
With more than blood, deceit and sorrow –
As some gave all they had to give 
For a brave new world tomorrow.

What shall we say to those 
Whose ghosts still walk  
Those all too many hallowed battle grounds? 
Will we curse their names to oblivion and shame 
Until not a trace is found
Or will we instead, invoke the dead 
And turn democracy around?

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