We must establish brand new homes
that have no geography at all -
As fresh as any coinage minted
With such great, relucent light,
Right for the hot, fresh blood of the young,
Rife for all thickly muscled laborers in the garden,
Unaware of all the years left to be worked.
Our grand future incubates in what is unspoken
By clumsy tongues unfamiliar with the poetry
that is our birthright, that bubbles up
around and in every one of us.
Where do we find the courage
To mine all the riches that lie buried,
Trapped so deep within our hearts discordant?
What nourishment must we take to find such strength?
As for me, I choose
To cradle dreams like heartfelt thanks.
I choose to nurse all the dying parts
Back to full strength.
We will train to become
The warriors this world needs
And we will deal every minute,
In every way, in every flavor of forgiveness.
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