Such benedictions
Which I have no authority for
And such visions
That tantalize my mind and soul
Some would call Idealism
And self-delusion…
May they go out
Like letters from a monastery
From a lonely monk
To all the lovers in the world
To anyone not sworn to celibacy
Make beautiful angels
Hold them tight
And give them a carbon neutral world
Bequeathed to them
By erring ancestors

 

There is a wind
Aromatic, imperceptible
And filled with secret life
It splinters and gathers
Coalescing with the tides
Shadowless and pure
It reclaims what has been lost
In heartbreaking happiness
Sometimes old things are restored
And new things are reborn
And so all things are possible…
With hard work
There is hope
Children can chase fireflies
And grow old
If we work hard and save the world