Stand in front of the mirror, hair cut and face washed.
Look out the window in your bedroom
see the sentinels standing to attention
Pine, Spruce, Douglas,
who never ask anything from you.
See the sun shining on your garden
and across the fine wood deck
framed with cedar panels
so carefully spaced for endurance.
Put out peanuts when you hear Jays call.
Be entertained by the owl calling her lover!
Now! Here! I am ready for you.
Watch the breeze created by butterflies
miles away, their wings more fragile than you.
Do Western Monarchs know how far their wings reach?
Do mothers fleeing from fire and bombs
carrying their possessions with their babies
feel powerful?
It depends on getting to their destination
before they are shot.
If their hungry bodies manage to hold their infant
all the way no matter how much pain
they must endure
they know they are a great power
and they will live as long as their grand-children
remember them.
They know that feeling power does not count.
Only loving the world long enough
for the next generation to thrive.
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