You’d think wouldn’t you?
if one would compassion do?
P and P, would be on the same page,
But instead, one gives out a medal while the other does a rage,
It’s about a movie, the best I seen so far,
It’s called Avatar, could have been called, once upon a star,
Someone wishing it was so,
Like it was so long ago,
When the spirit of the human race,
was in much a better place,
when Angel were real and plenty,
with spirit one would see,
But paper angels did we make instead,
and only prayers of a book we read,
The real angel, that the tree,
printed paper made with ink to see,
Angel spirits of many sort,
from fern, to bee, we did abort,
while we raided evil spirits in the forest,
chased evil demons from the horst,
Natures priests and witches true ,
with cross and fire did we sue,
Every corner of the world we burned their treasures,
mean and foul hearted were our measures,
from the Inca proud domain we stole their gold and soul,
replace all they had with God’s new role,
ten million spirit people our own natives son’s and daughters,
killed them all, in many battle slaughters,
What have we gained in all our deeds, their pain?
could we ever, all we lost regain?
Still we pray to paper spirits, housed in temples tall,
or in the temple of the shopping mall,
We lost our spirit to share with all there is,
give back to mother earth, she shared her bliss,
instead we rape, and pillage, burn and slash,
all her treasures, all her stash,
Instead we build a billion loo,
and shit on her, that’s what we do,
cause we’re so much brighter,
invented plane and lighter,
Intelligence gone far astray,
civilization had its way,
better fast build now that rocket ship,
soon we’ll need to leave, go on a trip,
We killed the shamans, witches, and the braves,
to false chiefs, Gods and kings we made them knaves,
no one left now to talk to spirit tree,
no one left that could real spirits see,
All is dead, and dying all around,
only wringing hands can now be found,
but on his throne, though he preach compassion,
It’s mostly dress and fashion,
Still in the night those that do,
compassion show that’s true ,
to all, without regard to written books and psalms,
pray to mother earth and share her alms,
When I look at a leaf a tree, a tiny bee,
It’s always God I see,
Nowhere near to Pope or preacher man,
Still God I hear and see I can.
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It’s always God I see,
Nowhere near to Pope or preacher man,
Still God I hear and see I can.
My father told me when I was still a child: "Stay close to nature and you shall stay close to God. Your sobering, apt, and timely poem reminds me of what he said to me, Jasmin. Thank you. Love and peace to you,
Regis
Georg
and shit on her, that’s what we do
Probably why some don't like this movie; they refuse to believe we're destroying this planet, as we surely will destroy the next one when we master space travel.
And if one can't find God in Nature, I doubt they are really finding Him in some manmade church either.
PS: 3-D is the way to see this movie!
That I didn't care for the movie at all is irrelevant here - what you do with this poem is what counts and where your thoughts take me. This is very fine indeed.
John