Aberjhani

Stars ink your fingerswith a lexicon of flameblazing rare knowledge.

In my head this cruel unspeakable truth: that we battled and we cursed and we spilled each other’s blood, we relished our taste of hell and strangled heaven’s love.

Our greatest power as nations and individuals is not the ability to employ assault weapons, suicide bombers, and drones to destroy each other. The greater more creative powers with which we may arm ourselves are grace and compassion sufficient enough to love and save each other.

In a rich moonlit garden, flowers open beneath the eyes of entire nations terrified to acknowledge the simplicity of the beauty of peace.

Time (again, Time) like the soul, wears many faces, many bodies and climates and attitudes. The past is one face, the present a second and the future yet another.

What is this slow blue dream of living, and this fevered death by dreaming?

The same hot lightning that burns your blood with passion–– cools your fears with peace.

In your hands winteris a book with cloud pagesthat snow pearls of love.

First steps are always the hardest but until they are taken the notion of progress remains only a notion and not an achievement.

Love taught me to die with dignity that I might come forth anew in splendor. Born once of flesh, then again of fire, I was reborn a third time to the sound of my name humming haikus in heaven’s mouth.