Empty

Following the barefooted
tracks of angels
I reach back
deep inside my heart 
to clear it out
to start anew. 


Written on a mountainside in Laos. 

Eight

When our bodies turn to dust
let us be remembered
not for the love we stopped
but the love we gave

when our laughs turns to memories
let us be remembered
not for the differences we feared
but the tolerance we shared

when the sunrises that first time after we are gone
let us be remembered
for all the times we stood up
when others sat down

for all the times we turned to forgiveness
when others turned to fear
for all the times we spoke up
when others were silent

knowing inequality
can never be justified
knowing just because
this is how its always been done

and done in the name of God
doesn't mean it makes God proud.