Satava Moon ~ Philip Brent Harris

~~~~~

All our symbols of success and failure
are much more than they might appear.
Still,  they may not be what you think,
paper, metal bits, a conspirator’s wink.

If you are rich, you believe I am wrong.
all your wants, needs met, a happy song.
If you’re poor, you’re certain I am right,
chance to meet your needs, alone, slight.

Cash won’t hug you nor hold your hand,
no matter where you live, poor or grand.
It cannot stop the sunset, buy the dawn.
We all end up resting beneath the lawn.

Burned upon a pyre, our ashes scattered,
left to be picked clean, as if it mattered.
Some rising, some falling, it’s all a game.
Our ultimate ending will all be the same.

Those in the middle, schooled to hate,
masses beneath them earned their fate.
Those on top; we want to be like them
Think our lives could gleam like gems

The richest continue to gain still more,
squeeze out the middle to join the poor.
When  middle falls low, quite shocked,
No friends with those reviled, mocked.

Don’t worry, rich profit may end us all.
Weapons, war, plagues, profiteering, oil
Atom bombs, global warming fast, slow,
live rich, die anyway, don’t you know?

~~~~~

Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength,  Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment

~~~~~

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