Magic
We humans have abilities that awe
That when unhemmed by ethics and by law
Can lead to great calamities indeed.
No magic can suffice, when few will heed
The voice of conscience and the pull of heart
As ears are deafened and we're pulled apart
By hatreds born of ignorance, instilled.
And so are prophesies, of hate, fulfilled.
******
So you and I and others have conversed
On how to end the wars with which we're cursed,
As more and more of science, art, and craft
Are used to wage what reason sees as daft—
Descends on people, trapped, and blindly steals
From these, its victims, all, including life,
And so maintains the never-ending strife
With senseless hatred turning friend to foe
As every act unjust and every blow
Begets its offspring, violent even more.
In speech, if anyone can understand
The sense behind this senselessness and show
A way by which to stop—or even slow—
Whose hubris causes hearts and minds to close,
As blissful, willful ignorance parades
As truth—and blatant lies inform charades
The murderers of children, feel no fear
Of judgment, further seal their hearts
And practice, daily, more deceiving arts.
And make those evils disappear, that should.
So bombs would all reverse, and bullets too—
And then we might be smiling, me and you—
Would turn—and so return! It would be hell
For every bully, armed with war machines,
As "magic" gave the rest of us vaccines
And horror. So these wars would disappear—
Of mass destruction, misery, and death—
Replaced perhaps by even worse! Regret
As all my "magic" turned out, not to be
The thing I'd hoped for. Squeezing evil, I,
Would see its means to lengthen and defy
This scourge of ours could be, that only drastic
Measures might suffice to bring to end
This evil that afflicts us all, my friend!
To end our species, twinned as woman-man?
Within the wilds of psyche, through the sleep
With steps, as usual, on accustomed ways
Of habit born of training, so we see
In verse or prose, of That which so impressed
The ones who saw that they awoke from sleep,
Enlightened—and connected with the Deep.
The insight and connection that abide
And so inform the heart and mind to steer
Away from that which then is seen as clear.
Or was and is this cleavage, all along,
Misguided—clouded by a lack of sight
Of those connections needing pause—for light?
Are ripples on the surface of a sea
That can be whipped by winds to stormy waves.
And yet, beneath, there’s peace—a strength that knaves
And others, “insight” or “connection”. Fate
Can put us each in peril and in stress,
But only grace can change a “no” to “yes”,
So endless lies and wars may take their course
With cities laid to waste and no one spared.
The spirit lives—in those who saw—and cared.
To end the many words I’ve said today.
There is indeed a magic: it’s within;
It gives us strength to see—and not to sin.
Berkeley, California