We all know there is a better way, a way that nurtures blossoms and celebrates the songs of birds without leaving a trail of thorns for 30 years.
We all know there’s a better way than stealing neighbor’s land, starving little children or burying under rubble what was once a home to a Madonna dressed in a celebration of holy colors.
We all know there is a better way to praise the land we live upon, to dance in the wind instead of wildly fleeing explosions, to embrace precious friends instead of pointing guns of revenge, to sing with streams instead of screaming with banshees.
We all know there is a better way, a painful longing that will not subside, a hunger to thrive, a gratitude for rocks, sage, air and water, a place to rest our weary head on a pillow called home.
We all know that there is a better way. It begins with us. Why choose obsolete tools, diseased blankets, decayed food, fouled water, air choking with toxic fumes? Why open wide wallets to the arms maker, the ones already puffed fat, when standing on our corner is an angel begging for food?
We all know there is a better way. So. When will we turn aside from the ravings of fools and madmen? How can the deranged and insane protect us? How can the ignorant educate us? When have those who would rule the world succeeded?
Indeed. When will we choose a better way?
