Violence is forbidden. We
don’t allow swords clanging or needless deaths.
In this grand modern era, we don’t fight
like beasts.
We fight
like beings.
We allow words crashing and needless inconvenience.
In this grand modern era,
We fight
through trade and words.
Much less dangerous, right?
Only, that is,
until shots
sound off.
Is violence truly forbidden?
People are thrown away,
like paper dolls,
because they don’t like the color that was used.
As soon as the thunderous bang sounds,
The cold rock, trusted as a protector and assailant for so long, takes flight.
Then the scarlet sign of hurt pools out and the sickening scent of death wafts
to our noses
and into our minds.
This is what happens when we forget that
people are flowers.
They each bloom with their talents so
we must respect them.
We cannot trample the wonderful
bluebonnets.
We must let them grow and spread their seeds. Out, out,
being the lovely, enlightened things that they are meant to be.
Like the birds that Darwin found,
still finches, only differing a bit. But
this time they’re not different enough to be separate species.
Remember that,
though you’ve been told a thousand times already,
We should allow them to be grown with water,
that’s not tainted
with the salt that seems to penetrate all too often.
Some forget, during hardships, horrible or small.
They look for someone to blame. They point their fingers.
They sheik. They bully. They hurt as if they are children.
They allow those deadly rivers to flow yet again,
Dismissing their prey’s cries as it they are
nothing,
for they can easily blame people who seem out of place,
people who seem to be
nothing.
Please don’t blame the innocent flowers.
Please
don’t
forget,
to keep safe the precious bluebonnets and let them grow.
Let the bright sun dry their tears.
Please
forget
and forgive, old enemies, old grievances.
Let the rain wash the pain away.
Then, emerge, renewed,
with beautiful,
working,
seeing eyes. Or
fix the eyes instead.
Repair alliances,
Don’t fight over power.
Fight for love, equality, patience.
Whether your ideas come from above or not,
fight like beings.
Beings with their own ideas. However,
there is no need for you,
or your family,
or your religion,
or your country,
or your party to write the book of love alone.
You must write it as a collaboration.
Grow, change,
then live off the fruits and feel the hard-earned juice pour from your mouth, like a calming river.
We have been instructed,
for so long,
to stay together.
It may take a thousand more writers to change the world or
a thousand billion more people who believe them.
Now, please, though you’ve already been told, remember to live by and radiate your example,
whether absorbed or invented.
It’s not too hard hard and
I’m not trying to constrict you.
You may be free.
You should be free.
With all the others you shall be a free
flock of birds, who fly above all prejudices and grudges.
I’m only asking you to love.
If you don’t love me for this,
if you disagree with me, I’d like to know.
Let us walk on this page or the tab of an email and speak our colored truths.
If the images of the world are printed in green
and red
and blue,
let us bring them together to make a full image.
Let us not draw our swords, for we could draw our cups of words
instead.
Let us taste each other’s arguments and see if they are satisfying.
Let us walk together
and unhidden
In the pleasant woods of love with the bees buzzing lakadazically
and the velvet roses blooming.
I’m only asking you to love,
not telling,
asking,
pleading,
you to be someone who
loves.
