Friday, January 04, 2013

December Senryū 2012

idle no more | we march further for future | like our ancestors

our reality | is living in a dreamtime | of our own making

she has turned whispers | into thunder her voice sounds | people heed the call

because we are | all related in this great world | we struggle for peace

we must lift our voices | demand justice | for the people

she knits love | into scarves to keep her loved | ones warm

on the night before the day | she prayed for peace | happy for her life

Victoria | we salute you fearless | woman of courage

we ask ourselves why | all the time knowing there's hate | and despair awaits

a silent snow melts | into sorry ground soaked | their precious life spilled

innocents become martyrs | of a world gone mad | where war is response

mothers sacrifice | their children without consent | to warmonger madmen

how many sacrificed | in war and madness | one is too many

sorrow cuts deep | a nation built on horror | bloody ground

can we forgive ourselves | for staying mute | in the face of massacre

they were innocent angels | so close to the peace | returned

they say guns do not kill | but people do demon's work | they are the tools

her mother says | there have always been madmen | they are on the rise

babies are mowed down | people want to know why | truth too much to bear

a plane goes down | dreams dashed linger there | in fragments of a great life

we come in spirals | dancing into the world | head first without thought

we relent on cue | commitments too big to fit | when our world's falling

first snow fell silent | tiny feathers of white light | melted as it hit

he will always live | suspended in amber | in her bitter heart

too many years passed | she aches for the ghost of him | he is not that man ⊱╮

at almost eighty-years-young | she believes she's old | then takes on the role

the circle of life | contains all living beings | what we do to ourselves

poets converge | joined together they share songs | on life and living

the people move | from resistance to offensive | when they are not heard

words mean so little | compared to actions | love's rays are everywhere"

she stands lakeside | staring at the glass green lake | prays for good journeys | her mother stares out windows | buscando la luna

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