Here we are again, fellow traveler.

Here. 

Again.

You.

Me.

 

Have the memories started for you yet?

 

Here we are again, fellow traveler

in yet another troubled time.

 

Hearts are burdened.

Families are being broken.

Bonds of trust have been dissolved 

all with the quick-flick

of jet-black ink

on rough-feeling paper

that has never known empathy.

 

Here we are again, fellow traveler.

The curriculum is now set.

The School of Soft-Attention is now taking students.

 

Grandmothers of the Buffalo Nation

are out there crying and bleeding in the snow again.

The latest 'Great White Father' doesn't remember,

and hasn't really

let the full history

settle into his bones.

 

Here we are again, fellow traveler.

Mothers of the Desert

are out there fighting

to protect their young

along some unknown fence line.

 

And you and me...

students of the School of Soft-Attention...

 

...we're the witnesses

that have to see

because our hearts can't not

and our minds

are of The Way,

and it is our way

not to turn away

from what's really happening.

_______________________________________________

For more info about the music of Robert Rich, visit robertrich.com

(c) 2017 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

 

 

 

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