Only Connect


The smell of onions on my forefinger,

Faint, yet as strong as the cord uniting

Mother with child, severed upon entrance

Into this world, disconnecting us

From the spiritual source of matter,

Conjures images of you, your people,

Rebuilding upon wars’ rubble without

A blueprint of what the new world should be

Other than different from the old fear

Of other, from the idea ideas

Don’t kill, people do, from the tyranny

Of hate, from the despair of helplessness

That causes people to relinquish 

Their power to those who claim they alone

Can fix it, whatever that it may be,

Hungry for the power to dominate,

To suppress and vanquish, not to connect

Not to love all of creation as if 

Their lives depended on it, like the earth

Does water, like the embryo it’s cord.



9/3/20



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