Shades of Twenty-Twenty vision lie beneath abandoned cities packed with disregarded lessons of the centuries before. Finally the veil has lifted, there’s a purpose in tomorrow and the memories are fading from the year that brought the war.
Looking forward to commencement, parties, proms, and lazy summer leading into jobs or college, we were only seventeen. Some of us were undecided, some had mapped a certain future in the pattern of their parents. Others saw behind the screen.
Since we entered kindergarten we’d been tested, used, and herded for political agendas on the nation’s shrinking stage so it wasn’t unexpected when democracy imploded in a world already reeling from the chaos of the age.
Virus after virus followed, claiming half the population. News from other countries filtered slowly through the riot zone ’til the power grid was severed. While democracy imploded we were scrabbling for survival. Now we live on wits alone.
Here I stand, the single remnant from a family of seven, flanked by unified companions whose intention can increase coexistence with the planet. Taking only what is needed, with the help of one another we will make a lasting peace.
Though headlines clamor, voices blare and bitter arguments abound in every fearful sector where the chaos of the world is found, each hibernating embryo refuses to restrain its flow of love beneath the silent snow.
When social order seems to fall into the clutch of grasping hands, a waiting surge is poised to call upon the truth that countermands the venom of contagious lies before its spread can fertilize the hopelessness in mournful cries.
Within the calm collective dream of all-inclusive peace on earth the universe emits a beam directing to our own rebirth. May every seedling labor through the obstacles that block our view of fellow feeling born anew.
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!
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.
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