Tag Archives: Hope



Sunsets are long in these latitudes
and filled with color

The color of sunlight refracting
through soil and seed and dreams

picked up by west winds
and held in suspension
along with prayers
for a good harvest

What it might pay off
and what it might pay
a little something
down on

A little rain brings them
back to earth again



It is not the job of the poet
to speak of spring in the springtime

The task is to gather
the cool winds of April
to freshen your face in July

And all through the fallings of fall
and all through the dyings of winter

And all through the long days of lent
all through the pain of the Friday
reminding us always of Sunday



In Bethlehem
a refugee with sadness but no hate decreed
another generation is what we need

And a school where
the children of the refugees of holocausts and
refugees of refugees can learn together
learn to look inward first

This is a most beautiful and special place
with such regard for dignity and respect
so successful in their message of love
so filled with fairness to each side

That Arafat’s Palestinians burn their busses
and Israelis torture teachers and riddle walls

While Caterpillars sent from across the sea
creep closer each day in their wonderful
mindless mechanical way
with levelling intent

To be met with Gandhi smiles
and your help, if you give it


Hope Flowers School – Bethlehem


(For Maya Angelou)

Sometimes we read
because we cannot not, because we need
to find that one story, one friend
one note of truth

Sometimes a young girl, repeatedly abused
“I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings”
under her mattress

And keeps on living because
she takes it out after he has gone
and talks to Maya, who understands



You can know your native language
and still feel all alone
as pilots talk to pilots
in a code that’s all their own

Yet not even one to one
can they share that love of air
or touch the other’s feelings
of the fear and beauty there

Sailors talk to sailors
of wind and sail and rope
of nights upon the ocean
of courage and of hope

Yet the words just can’t convey
their love of sea and air
nor touch the other’s feelings
of the fear and beauty there

And though cowboys talk to cowboys
in a special kind of drawl
there’s still a space between them
the words can’t tell at all

Not those nights of cold and stars
with coyotes on the air
nor the call of open spaces
with the fear and beauty there

Watch as lovers talk to lovers
in ways only two can share
as they build between them
a framework light and fair

While a web that’s spun of maybes
hangs so fragile in the air
that one false word can shatter
into pain, the beauty there

And yet

There are still some crazy poets
out riding hatless in the sun
still trying to do the very thing
we all know can’t be done

Still Quixoting for a language
that can speak to everyone