Thankfull

 -------Thankfull-------

 

There are many 

ways

to say thank you

 

For this existence,

in this 

moment

 

I bend 

and breath

while planting seeds

 

And with 

my hands

dig gardens

 

That soon 

will bear

more gifts to share;

 

From light

grows light

abundant.

 

-------

The Tradition

 

-------The Tradition-------

 

Responsibility 

transcends the distance

 

Between place 

and generation

 

Here and now

carried on

 

By those 

of long tradition

 

We are of this earth

no matter what

 

No matter who

or where we come from

 

To care for land

is duty, is grace

 

To give

is our great reception.

 

-------

Manifesting the Vision

 -------Manifesting the Vision-------

 

Caged

but unbound

 

Prisoners

by

political means

 

Exercise a knowing

 

That bends the lines

and breaks the chains

 

Of this modern

day

plantation.

 

Spirit is an edgeless thing

 

And a Revolutionary's

cannot be captured

 

For their vision seed

has here

been planted

 

And We will tend its growing.

 

-------

Differentiation

 -------Differentiation-------

Every piece

makes up the whole

 

All sizes

and shapes

when come together

 

Cared for

and acknowledged

 

Will fill

each others

unfilled spaces

 

Holding steadfast

through the storm.

 

-------

Reciprocity

 -------Reciprocity-------

People are not 

the only ones

who keep the seeds 

of change

Those ideas 

which hold a hope

for potential 

revolution.

Plants 

exchange 

based on need

with other plants and soil

With birds 

and deer

who then convey 

their prayers across the land.

Everywhere

are small reminders

there is

enough for all,

In you am I 

forever

and together

we are free.

-------

In a Rose

-------In a Rose-------

Ferns unfurl

With Spring's 

becoming

Summer in a rose

Unpetalled 

yet

Still a dream

Stirring 

through the forest.

-------

Resurrect

 

-------Resurrect-------

 

Few, 

if any,

who speak today

of bootstrap independence

 

Know the art 

of tending land

and cannot feed themselves.

 

Dependent

as the day of birth.

Unmoved 

by humble labor.

 

Before the wage 

we lived with trees

and made our homes from them.

 

We gathered herbs

and spun the fleece

our woolen 

siblings shared.

 

We spoke the language 

of a place 

and then those words were stolen.

 

The Commons 

though

still remain

in my dreams awaiting

 

The Diggers hands

to resurrect

abundance once again.

 

-------