As If We All Matter

In the dream this life is becoming,
I can only go gently from day to day
consorting, and sometimes dancing
with angels.

These heavenly beings are my cousins
in this incarnation,
sharing stories about the vibration
of the stars in the fibers that make up
the essence of our hearts

And our minds fly like hawks
to and from the roosts
we’ve made in the stony places
overlooking the oceans,
gleaming and fresh as we find the quickest passages
to the places love needs us most.

How can it be that just yesterday we flew past the dark face
of a crying child without compassion
toward the breast of a mother
aching t nurse her sleeping son to health?

We open all compassion for all children in the nipple she offers
to those small, pink lips.

How can it be true that in the place I am from
could deny bread to the sad, hungry eyes of a neighbor
on the way to put out the fire at a stranger’s home?

We hold the cup of cool water
to the parched mouth of all.

What safe haven, safe harbor
will we douse from heaven
for all the suffering to bathe in laughter
and safety,
heal in the quiet pools of kindness,
if we only notice a single drop of dew
forming on the edge of a leaf at dawn.

I must be willing to talk honestly
with my sister angels
to clear the sky of all clouds and darkness of doubt
to fly straight into the fear and ignorance
that blocks our vision of the truth.
There is too much to be done to be anything less
than magic and miracle
with each beam of light approaching this atmosphere
searching for hope.

I reach out both hands
to the other dreamers waking and acting
as if the God in each of us
really matters.