When the most powerful diplomatic tool you have
Is an army
Every geo-political problem begins to look
Like a war
Is an army
Every geo-political problem begins to look
Like a war
A young man throws sticks to his dog
Which gleefully, gaspingly
Retrieves them
I love it so much
I tend to find it
Where others see only the everyday
Only the expected
When it’s no longer possible
To get an image
With a hand-held camera
I sit down
And bask in the immensity
Forms and lines
With seeming guile
Lead my eye
On paths unknown
I rise from sleep
To greet the sun
With song and peace
Then in its light
Join reverie
For life and love
And Harmony
I wonder
At the tenacity
Of living things
And marvel at the beauty
Death sometimes brings
I may think of friends
Who are far away
But always in my orbit
Always there
Even if not visible
In my daylight skies