A World Without Hate


A World Without Hate – would you leave life as you know it . . . .?

Bewildered by past lives – in search of a pyramid, unknown architecture, a monument of fear. I fought, pleaded with imagination; controlling space – could this be . . . . me stretched out, adorned in jewels, a face etched in stone?

Isolated – a mist of blue – circles me – captures a new world as years rapidly decrease time, a roadway to our past.
In the stillness of dawn a strange disc reflects light, a star filled with peacefulness, took fear away as godly figures gathered in my field of vision. No need to speak while, many struggle to mingle within a thick haze; commands made.
No noise in a desert where ice crystals – pointed rocks – magnify a runway – a zone of indestructible nature –
blasted bellows of bravery – wings clap into shallow air; eyes speak, rivers cry, mountains dissolve, a soul dies – The world changes – or, can it be no world at all?

World-Without-HateA cave – a fissure cut thru limestone by the swirl of water; obliterated. A woman stands alone, preaching to a violet sky.
Enormous waves of energy circulates as blood – brings a shiver in desert heat; a shiver remains inside.

Born thru light – bodies – boneless spindles – thin – hands wave to draw me closer to a stranger, casts a respectful gaze.

As if Monet painted lilies in their field; as if rain changed a desert to a spectacle of color.

“I kiss your hand, although matrimony is a trivial state, we do not let it enter into our love

You were chosen for this voyage to learn basic truths; wealth is from our soil, love, a constant state of mind.
Those who were chosen – some mortally – wounded by earthly – tricks.  Yet here, the courageous are the safe; such kind souls. We imagine your terrain of meadows surrounding us, no hate follows you, your energy comes from a land of secret paths. Soil, does not gather waste – it will not degrade, nor will our sun harm your skin – moisture
will not evaporate – no need to worry about age – it is a thing of your past – no longer a living legend.

Your hospitals, insane asylums, penitentiaries, are filled; a result of children brought into
your world, to swell. Where you are going if you choose to fly from here; we have no disease, no pain, no needless
slaying on our streets. Here, we are not too – busy, to care.

A stream of knowledge gathers inside the unnourished brain.  Educated – by a mere ray of our sun, cured
of bad habits; once you’ve lingered long enough to heal.

Although we cherish freedom –how free is free? How far away must we fly?  I felt a pull, turned and noticed – you were naked, too.

1 Comment
  1. Avatar of Gabriel Constans
    Gabriel Constans says

    I know this story is from last year, but it just caught my attention and I had to read it. Love the way you interspersed the poetry into the flow of the text. Thank you for sharing this (even though I’m a little late in saying so).

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