in the end

so you were lonely,
i it heard through the phone.
I left you next to disaster,
while you were waiting for the answer.
From a voice that calls you,
from beyond the grave.
You didn`t know it was me.
I didn`t feel the same.

Walking through these meadows,
and beside these homes.
Your greatest fear was that,
you`d be alone.
If you looked up to the sky,
you`d see.
That stranger hiding out in the clouds,
is me.

So now the story`s over,
you`re at the end of the road.
You feel so much better,
unburdened by this heavy load.
This radio still belts out your name,
it`s tongue is dretched with your poison.
It`s got no way to run.

the message

I wrote this while sitting on a bench in Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park. A wonderful place to think about doing things better.

For a moment, evil held the world in it's hand, and let life slip between its fingers. Shadows of the people are all that remain, in this place, their final stage of passing.
In the background, a bell tolls, attempting to bring them home, as a group of worshipers call to their spirits. They see not the light cast from the peace flame.
They know this fortune cannot come to pass. Much less their loved ones returned. The powers of the world are against them, but still their mouths move in prayer as one.

They look toward the heavens for answers that may never come. For the silver lining that was once painted black with the scars of burns and the horrors of their nightmare. Peace blossums like a flower from the dust and the ruble, and must be aided by the blissful touch of a mother's love.

In the shadow of war, let a great beakon shine down on us all, so that our flowers can grow once more.

Japan...arrival

August 15-6pm.

After a twelve hour flight, and a couple of pictures of the Alaskan mountians, the Boeing 474-400 aircraft landed in Narita, Japan. After a 1 hour train ride, I arrived in Toyko.

What`s amazing about the city is the amount of people, large crouds, moving unimpeded through narrow streets that reflected the glow of the many bright neon signs high above. It`s strange to be the outsider in a foreign place. It seems that everywhere I walk, the eyes of strangers follow. Before I take a step, they know where I will go, or so it seems.

My first food experience was a sushi bar. The setup was unique. All of the chairs were placed in a circle, and in front, a track brought around the food the resturant served. There were many different types of sushi, not that I can tell you what they were, but nonetheless, I welcomed the fresh taste of athentic Japanese sushi.

More to come. Tomorrow Mike and I head for Kyoto.

mystic flight

Through the air at night,
a mystic wonder.
Sound passes over the houses,
rattling them like thunder.

Closer to the heavens,
than ever before.
Grab the stars with your hands,
listen to the children roar.

In jaded heaps the passengers creep,
through the gate and into the world.
To change it one by one,
each a vision inspired.
While evil took another step,
the villagers grew tired.

Frozen heels

I walk this ground on frozen heels,
and through a forest of trees.
At night I hear your voice scream,
the sounds brings me to my knees.
No blanket to trap escaping heat,
nor veil to block the sun.
This place, this rythm, these echoed voice through time,
but thinking only of one.
Your eyes in front, but cannot see,
the vision of me is blurred.
A life of peace, of freedom of speech,
most certainly seems absurd.

ever after the sunrise

the sun followed the rain,
as the clouds began to retreat.
the air was cool,
and my life was complete.

waves lapped against the shore,
while our feet dangled in the sea.
the room was small, fit for two,
nothing beyond the walls of you and me.