Blame

We blame each other
for being an other.
My country.
Your country.
They’re both crazy.
They’re both afraid
of love
between people,
between nations.
They’re afraid to dwell
between the thoughts,
that bind us to our past,
to our shame, our hurt,
afraid to resist
the urge to root our fears
in the fecundity of ignorance.

I Found a Lone Wildflower

I found a lone wildflower
dancing gently with the wind
on a quiet mountainside
near the village.


She thought she was alone,
so I did not disturb her.


She moved as if drunk
on the sunlight
shining on her petals,
as if life itself was the song
that rang in her ears.


I thought to possess her,
to take her home,
to make her mine,
but I knew
this would be the death of her.


So, I watched
until the light faded.
and she slowly folded
her leaves around her
bowed her head
and slept
satisfied.