333

Waves of people, each drop teeming knowledge,
technologies of light and of darkness
variegated mess, a heaping wedge
of differences, and the grains they possess:
Each seed is a thought, intention in form
un-enacted – the promise of freedom
contained in a kernel wrapped tight and firm,
screaming in silence just to be reborn:
A culture was raised with crenellations
atop the havoc of indecency,
its aching forebears’ endless patience
trod on by the weapons that man can’t see:
I hope one day to restore that vision,
despite the rice box that bears derision.

Advertisement
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s