“The safest general characterization of the European philosophical tradition is that it consists of a series of footnotes to Plato.”
–Alfred North Whitehead

People, People Everywhere

People, people everywhere,
Wake up and look around.
Where are we, as people,
Upon this planet,
Our forgotten ground?

Hear the quiet whisper of Earth
Falling forever with the Moon
Into the depths of the Sky
Toward the Sun, never reaching
The light that showers down upon us;

Greet each day without shame
With the same
Joy of Earth as it savors
The embrace of the Sun.

Love also our reflection in the Moon,
Neglecting not memories of death and dying,
But sleeping the whole night through without word—
And so seeing silently,
Listening to the wisdom of the world.

Here we are, not as aliens
Upon the surface of Earth,
But flowers blooming from Her soil,
Seeding future faces She can only dream.

People, people everywhere,
Lay down and close your eyes.
Bid peace to colors of light,
To shapes of shadow;
Collect instead our own minds eye.

Search the sea for the infinite epiphany
Whos inspiration lifts the water to the stars.
They drink their death and all turns dark
Until our probing I lures us ashore.

Vast spaces give us room to soar,
But only particular faces
Remind us of home.
Home is where we always are,
The place that holds us near.

Like the sounds of all our names,
The call of home is heard
Not with many ears,
But as solitary beings.

Home is here before there,
And so everywhere at once,
Its fire making many of one,
And its love creating one of many.
So found, home tells no time.







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