We come from the land that gives us life.
We remember the time when the virgin earth brought forth
fruits in great abundance — a natural paradise — before greed
ripped our land and lives apart
Now mining scars the face of the planet,
leaves deep craters where once wild rivers ran
Our freedom curtailed, many search for paradise lost,
chasing butterflies of illusion in a cloud of confusion.
Heed the warning of our cousins the Cree:
Only when the last tree has died,
the last river poisoned and the last fish been caught,
will you realise that you cannot eat money
poetry
I want to sow seeds in the fertile minds of the young,
and see wisdom grow.
To plant flowers in parched desert hearts
and watch love grow anew.
Drench the fires of hatred and intolerance
in a downpour so huge, not a spark remains.
Feed the hungry and starve injustice.
I want to heal the wounds of life’s thousand painful cuts.
Make only weapons that kill pain and suffering.
Declare war on war.
Throttle patriotic lies and romantic war.
Freeze greed and warm the poor.
Free minds imprisoned by conditioning and fear.
Plant real smart bombs in minds and
watch them sprout.
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