Painting by Dario Campanile, 2010, to commemorate the 5-year traveling exhibit:
“Missing Peace Found: Artists Consider the Dalai Lama”
A field of energy surrounds
exhibit halls, artistic grounds
where wisdom flows. A soft wind blows
from Mexico to Greece.
In joining hands around the globe
to touch the Dalai Lama’s robe,
the threads connect; hearts intersect
at avenues to peace.
Emerging from the planet’s core,
the whisper soon becomes a roar —
a rising tide to cast aside
suspicion, hate and fear.
With absolute impunity,
the world embraces unity
when chaos ends. It all depends
on everybody here.
Compassion for our brother’s plight
must hold a candle through the night.
All cannot rest while one’s oppressed.
erode our fundamental soul.
Each person fills a vital role;
we’re called to be the change we see
in dreams. Let kindness reign!
Mary Boren, 2011
The form is called quaintrelle.
A tally of predicaments could wrap around the block.
The kids need shoes; the bill collector’s calling.
Politisquabbles dominate the news at 6 o’clock.
Relax, the sky is probably not falling.
The pundits paint a bleak scenario. Predictions seem
convincing in their repetitious drumming,
but to the watchers waking from a bad collective dream,
one thing alone is certain: Change is coming.
More likely what we’re feeling is a planetary jerk
produced by waves of panic. But, believe it
or not, a proven principle is steadily at work:
The world’s as good or bad as you perceive it.
So when you’re pecking for a meal on ground that’s parched and hard,
and hear the sound of thunderclouds advancing,
take heart. Don’t blindly string along with chickens from the yard
to hunker in the coop. Look up! Start dancing!
Perhaps the slurpy spectacle as optimists cavort
in mud could set a brighter course. Thank heaven
our future’s not determined by the 6 o’clock report.
“America’s Got Talent” airs at seven.
Mary Boren, 2008
I had an energizing dream about a peaceful morning
when everyone alive awakes renewed.
The air is pure, the water clean, no hint of global warming,
and no one lacks for shelter, clothes, or food.
The planet is awash with gratitude.
What happened to the weary world and all its weight of sorrow?
What monumental, unforeseen event
could render feuds forgotten as an ominous tomorrow
became today? By mutual assent,
nobody even wonders where it went.
But as the dreamer, watching from a cloud at twelve-eleven,
I saw exactly how the shift occurred.
It’s not like everybody had to die to go to heaven.
The earth turned upside down, imbalance blurred,
and in that moment, inner vision stirred.
So now it’s spring in Perth and autumn in the Rocky Mountains.
Affluence is devalued, hope annealed.
As fear is toppled to the bottom, overflowing fountains
of love ascend to trump the sword and shield.
The veil has lifted; heaven is revealed.
Mary Boren, 2011
Maybe if I had a billion dollars
I could oversee a massive mission,
blitzing through the backwoods, hills, and hollers,
rounding up the poor folks. Good nutrition,
clothing, shelter, basic education,
birth control and medical attention
ought to be enough to bring a nation
out of moral downslide, not to mention
perk up productivity. However,
what if there was no such thing as money?
How would altruism flourish? Never
underestimate two hands. It’s funny
seeing focus shifting when the labor
asked of me is simply love my neighbor.
Mary Boren, 2005