How I miss the animals of the ocean,
in the depths that can’t be measured
of my heart,
deeper than water, or a universe of dark matter.
I want mercy in this world
and I miss the trees
that are daily falling, the birds
here too early to survive,
but not the lies of our time.
There is something wrong with me
because seeing the suffering
makes me weep and then I write these words.
What I really wish to write is a love poem
to ocean, tree, bird, a lover,
not to condemn soldiers
who follow orders
sworn to a nation
instead of the spirit of compassion.
You know, I tell people,
Earth has the grace
to create caves of shining crystal
and shifting dunes, mountains
with waters falling from them.
Water has the blessing of skin
left unbroken, never scarred.
to make life that easy in this world.
If not that, I need to harden my edges
but mercy is a word
that leaves me open instead.