A Story by Coyote Poetry
Who remembered the people who once lived in the dead cities? Bombs, war and soldiers torn apart once great cities. Where did the people go? Who is responsible
War would end if the dead could return. ~Stanley Baldwin?
I’m fed up to the ears with old men dreaming up wars for young men to die in. ~George McGovern
Liberty and democracy become unholy when their hands are dyed red with innocent blood. ~Gandhi, Non-violence in Peace and War, 1948
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below. //
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields…
~John McCrae (1872″1918), “In Flanders Fields,” in Punch (London), 1915 December 8th
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”
― Martin Luther King Jr.,
I went to Lake St. Clair yesterday. I burned sage for sick friends and my world. I pray we learn. This is one earth and one people. Every life had value. War is mans sin. When men can accept war as norm. What have we become?
A mother at my work said war is needed. Her son is a active duty soldier. I asked her. You want your son to go fight someone 7000 miles away? She held silence and she told me. I don’t want to discuss this. I told her. When war is alive. War will come to our doorway. Pray for peace. Pray for wisdom for our leaders. Pray for the millions homeless and in danger. Need a billion people to stand as one. For the sweet word of peace to be known.