2011

The chicaneries will no doubt continue,
but all will never go downstream either;
there will be salmons that will
struggle upstream,
and birds that will throw their wings
against the howling wind.

Always, always, it is the undefeated soul
or two that holds back the weight
of oppression,
singing the sanity of common loves,
quelling the uncivilities of power,
shaming the marauders to look
their twisted mugs in the mirror,
sowing and spreading the radiance
that even the blackest of hearts desires
but is too afraid to acknowledge.

Were that not so,
the world would have ended long ago.

In time to come,
billions whose bread is stolen
will be better informed;
across all boundaries and hues,
they will learn to band together
and obtain their dues.

High and low,
when bullets and businesses
have run their course,
they will know the time has come
to shop for love.

So next, when we put shoulder
to the wheel,
let us feel with ever greater zeal
the power of our faith—
that however the crooks grow bolder,
all that lives must either draw breath
together, or not at all.

And that it is no longer a call
that the mightiest might ignore,
persisting like fools to have their own
air, water, fire, and shelter as before.