Cold wind this morning. Clear sky sun bloom
snowy pretty winter scene from a recoiling past.

Now, our nations night deep freeze
in dark days shrouding the lands head
frigid days of ice hardening crevice and creek
cold pressing sharp on every thought –
suffering in street’s shabby tents and shelters
wretched poverty in mining mountains
fear haunting heartland fields and pastures
vast parking lots of America covered in the ice of anger
swept by the cold wind of vindictive and violent fear
hooded in white – hateful, ignorant, afraid.

Cold clear morning, sunlit in gilt on iced snow
stands Martin, shadow covering the land
speaking a dream in warm currents of light
healing balm of sun to shake from tall trees snow showers of ice
green once again with spring hearts of life
lift in light blind seeds of sweet mercy
to feast, all at last, on the fruit of the living land.

Portland, Oregon – January 16, 2016 – Celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr., his words, vision, and dream.

Fear then
in the streets
on the young faces.

I was young
afraid.
Anger then
in the crowds
on all the troubled faces
in all the broken streets.

I am older
feeling 1968
in the streets
on the faces.
Creeping fear returns
and anger.

Is it a new world
on the dark horizon
or a dying world?
A cosmic egg
we thought
breaking in violence
pouring onto the worlds wounds.

It is for the young
to decide
if they want
a world renewed
that we, broken,
gave them.

Portland, Oregon – April 12, 2016