Here is where unfurling functions best,
Bolts of calico and honest to God purple
Velvet skirted Dine' lady, noble mejor, she
With her Zuni concho belt and squash blossom
Pendant perhaps honoring the blossom, per se
Doubt free, this is us, joined at the verbs,
Linked like fibers in a thread twisted for years,
Followed back, through lists of favorite things,
Inevitably the original grammar **** returns, with a
Vision, made plain as day, once, nations are made of
Us, we the people who use these living words to make
Peace, where none has been, in living memory,
But we pray today, any way, we expect yes, let peace
Reign locally, the whole world gets the idea and
Trumps the fool at the table betting truth is not God.
Sub-rosa, eh, a rose is a rose, Gertrude told me.
The Lie, that all men are not liars, is oft sold little thinkers,
And that is the truth each tells itself, we are chosen ones.
A day among inspired poets, we make peace easy to imagine activating locally and feeling it spread, like a drop of oil in a dusty pond of despondency, we pray not in vain for local peace, we make it and send it as our ripple in the pond of all we think and ask, my bit, free se cura, sure...
