Saturday, September 11

Cross of the Martyrs

The moon hangs low over Santa fe
a mere ten feet from the gleaming cathedral
over Guadalupe's tear and a smile

Fading summer's Scorpio is in the sky tonight
and before me a procession of light
of fire
of peoples passing by
and cultures
blending
into a continuance of the whole

Preserved in our hearts
a manjushri welcomes us
blessings bestowed
invocations for true integration being called upon
in this time of ministers threatening to burn anther's bible
this
a time for peace
I hear voices in the crowd
rising up to meet the stars
a post 9/11 peace
persuing patience and partnerships
a time for love and unity
of nonseperation
deeper connection

Gathering along this stream
I feel as if I'm one of them
and I am
as they are me
as we begin the ascent to the cross on the hill to pray for peace to prevail
on this
the eve of the burning of the Koran
as if their book is not sacred
as if its a bible that flew into the twin towers in downtown Manhattan
that late fall
before the first snowfall
as if the US is on the top of this
our connected world 
that somehow a map can be made
with borders
and boundries
and seperation
even though we all live inside this floating circle

I close my eyes for a moment and listen to wind
asking for guidence
for direction from the spirits of the land
and in that next moment of eyes wide open
I grab hold of her hand
and his
and  join in the stream of the chant
in Spanish
then English
for justice to be truly
understood