#peacegrooves — Public Fediverse posts

The Archer

In the high sea of clouds,
in willowing wisps of white,
an evil lurks.

The winds of the world bring
the first whisper of change,
an alien thing.

A dragon.

Red as blood, gleaming darkness,
its armor, invincible?

Heavy metal talons, drooling jaws,
acid falling, burning earth below.

It screams through the sky,
wings creaking, flapping furiously,
breathing flame.

Men flee,
like tiny ants scurrying
from desecration
into it.

Only One holds his ground,
a bow and one arrow
in his hand.

The Prince awaits,
as if to allow the dragon to
devour him.

Then with a flash,
he looses his arrow.

It soars through the air.

Blood gushing,
the dart buried deep,
the dragon crashes to the ground.

Landing on the One.

From amongst the dragon’s corpse,
amidst dying coals and wisps of smoke,
a figure crawls,
stands.

It is the Archer,
the One,
Him.

From the collection “Words at 16 (1983)”

Bowed Heads

Lately I've been seeing 
a lot of people with their heads 
bent over as if in prayer.

I am heartened to see 
so many engaged in the art 
of meditation or contemplation. 

Whether waiting for 
a meeting to begin 
or for someone to arrive 
or perhaps simply to kill time, 
the hands clasp 
and the head bows.

Then I draw closer 
and I see that the head 
is bent over a screen. 

An ethereal light bathes 
the worshipper's face, 
eyes enraptured, 
captured in a blue glow.

And I can't help 
but wonder if this 
is the new God.

July 11, 2013

A BetTER Day

Independence has its day,
when o’er the skies fireworks display,
and dependence, too, is good,
as every tender spirit should

learn the grace of being held,
when pride is hushed, and fear is quelled.
But methinks we need another name,
a deeper word, a wider frame.

It happens after we let one IN,
past the surface, past the skin,
past the guarded gates we keep,
past the places where hurt runs deep.

In the space before DEPEND,
we see the other as vital friend,
all as branches from one tree,
as the grains of sand receive the sea.

Then add three letters, soft but true,
TER arrives and makes it new.
Not just me and not just thee,
but something born between the three.

In-TER-dependence names the art
of hand in hand and heart to heart,
while I am I, and you are you,
something sacred binds us too.

Independence stands alone,
dependence leans on flesh and bone,
but interdependence humbly sings:
we rise by sharing roots and wings.

July 4, 2015 (updated June 2026)

A Day for the World to Say Sorry

From Australia’s National Sorry Day Toward an International Day of Truth, Repentance, and Repair

A PeaceGrooves Reflection

There are words so overused that they risk becoming weightless. Sorry is one of them. We say it when we bump into someone in a hallway, when we answer an email too late, when we make an insignificant mistake. Yet there are times when sorry is not small at all. There are wounds so deep, so deliberately inflicted, and so long denied that the speaking of sorrow becomes an act of public truth.

Australia’s National Sorry Day, observed each year on May 26, is such a day. It remembers the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children forcibly removed from their families, communities, languages, and cultures under government policies now associated with the Stolen Generations. The date marks the anniversary of the 1997 tabling of the Bringing Them Home report, the landmark national inquiry that gathered testimony from survivors and documented the devastation caused by these removals. The report called not only for recognition of what had happened, but for apology, healing, reparations, family reunion, access to records, and measures ensuring such violations would never recur.

National Sorry Day did not begin as a sentimental holiday….

Read the full essay at PeaceGrooves.