After all this blood, 
here we are, still 
torn in this crisis
of destruction and delusion. 
At a time like this, how 
can we even think of celebration?

Remember that hazy
summer day we lay 
side by side in the grass
gazing lazily
into the clouds, tell me
what do you see?
A dolphin jumping
through a wave
a swaying palm tree
a field of corn
a rhinoceros horn.

Wind and rain
the shapes change
a swooping bumblebee
a raging storm at sea
a crimson bird 
soaring along the horizon
a frowning clown
an angry crowd 
a thundering herd of bison.
Look up into the 
sky, into the clouds,
tell me what you see.

Grim masks in crowded dungeons
prisoners whispering forbidden
thoughts forever unfinished.
Midwives hugging bleeding infants
orphans holding endless wakes
widows seizing desperate moments
windows shattering lost childhoods
concrete collapsing bridges and dams 
toxic water gushing through neighborhoods
broken priests torturing war dogs 
everyday terror and plunder.
boys murdering men murdering women 
forests blazing animals fleeing
all the greatgrandchildren scream
the gangster banker regime
the loathsome empire’s
last bitter crimes drip drip dripping 
dark splatters of blood
on the last rotting dreams 
clotting in the last gutter. 
None of this will
ever be forgotten.

Yet it is written: 
Invincible regimes collapse
all-powerful empires
swept away to nowhere.
New civilizations arise
from the earth
with a kiss.
The clouds change.
The moment of
celebration is to be.

Remember that hazy
summer day we lay 
lazily in the grass, 
gazing up into 
the sky, tell me,
what do you see?
lovers in a filthy jail
the rings on a tiger’s tail
salmon creeks 
flamingo beaks
grazing gazelles
buddha bells 
flowering joshua trees 
sunrise over turquoise seas.