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poetry

Peace Fought, Peace Lost

I met a man who came from away
With no friends, no money, no English
Everything against him

But he was proud
He had two hands, he wanted to work
Not accept help

This man went to Toronto and almost starved
Before he found somewhere to eat and sleep

This man has two degrees, he’s a priest, he risked his life defending human rights
He can’t go to law school because his war-torn country can’t send his degrees
How ludicrous
He could teach the truth that children should not be used as soldiers
That people who defend children should not get shot

Two Wheels

Trees and paths

Leaves and needles

I collect burrs like badges on two wheels

Three million neighbours and no one knows I’m here

except the squirrel ignoring me in the twilight

 

Night falls

I climb

up hills which hid the ravine

Gentle drops and warm wind, slough off the day’s cares

as I race the downpour to my door

Cry Rwanda - A Prayer for Forgiveness

In 1994, I watched the events of the Tutsi genocide in Rwanda unfold from my living room in Toronto, Canada. I felt distant from the crisis, insulated, safe, and powerless. At the same time, I was in anguish that people could kill other people, especially those whom they previously called friend. Within one hundred days, 800,000 lives were lost. It seems to me that they were a preventable loss, if the world truly valued those lives.

Let’s be soldiers in the army of love

My grandfather’s village is just down the road
It’s blessed with the richest of olive groves
On Fridays when grandfather takes me on his knee
I feel the shade of a tree that I’ve never seen
 
I’m fighting for freedom, peace and security
I’ll never forget what they’ve stolen from me
Wrongs like these must be avenged  
I will not rest until they taste just revenge
 
We’re fighting for freedom in a just war
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