July 8


The Dream

There once was a dream of a place
Where to even utter it aloud carried a death sentence or something much much worse
It was hidden on the sleeves of all those who knew

Flee this tyranny, and flee they did
And the land became the dream
To conquer and seize
A piece to have and own

Atrocities were carried out in service to the dream
Hypocrisy flourished in the name of a loving God
Trampling all those who disagreed
Freedom gained on the backs of human animals

Over the years history was washed clean by the blood of their victims
Children learned the stories of those who fought to protect the dream
They were remembered and enshrined as heroes and patriots

This dream still lives today but only as a whisper
As fresh as the morning mist
That vanishes in the hot midday sun
When tyrants, aristocrats, and peasants lose their way

Sleep, make a living, and chase the dream
To dare to awaken carries a death sentence or something much much worse

About the author

I advocate for the mutual nourishment of the personal and collective human spirit and all beings of the Earth by the open sharing of beauty, gratitude, and sorrow and the regular practice of grief in conversations, gatherings, writings, poetry, ceremony, and song.

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