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Our Sword


by Darryl Price


"Love is old. Love is new. Love is all. Love is you."--The Beatles

"Some things hurt more, much more than cars and girls."--Prefab Sprout

The world is its own beautiful 
self, but has a lot of uneven, 
sharp teeth on any given 
day of the week. Even flowers 
can bite through you, but you've got to 
get over that pretty strange fact 
if you want to live longer than 
yesterday. So what if War is 

always coming? Are you afraid? 
You should be, but not get up and 
live out of it every day like 
a grumpy crab. It is never 
going to stop preparing to 
bang down your front door with its fist. 
But so are we also always 
being born just as deadly to 

meet the chosen moment. Our sword 
is plenty bright and just as immediately 
sharp to the touch. 
Our hand is uniquely sure on 
the hilt and perfectly skilled for 
the job at hand because our hearts 
are locked into place. They can't stop 
us from happening, no matter 

how hard they try--and they will try 
pretty hard. Still life goes on in 
all directions, including up 
and down and all around, which means 
there will be plenty of room for 
some meaningless fun to keep us 
all sane. And deep wells of tenderness 
to keep us all open to  

dreams and possibilities. And 
to keep things growing of beauty 
and sustenance in every free 
place on the planet that accepts 
kindness and hard work as love. We 
are not helpless. That is an illusion. 
We are black. We are white.
Together or apart, we stand. 

We are brown. We are yellow. We 
are young. We are old. We will never
stop believing in every 
impossible thing. Our sword runs 
both ways with equal strength for all
that is fair. We are men. We are 
women. We're streams of light. We're 
shadow. We are as animals. We 

are as angels. We are the children's 
crusade. We have not gone away. 
We are mornings. We are dusky 
evening. We are Winter 
and we are Summer. We are the 
atoms of the moon. We are the 
dust of the stars. All of them. Every 
single one is a brother 

or sister. Our sword is the music 
of many bells ringing. Our
sword can hear people cry. Our sword
can be pulled out of a poem. 
Our sword is on the backseat of 
an ordinary car. Probably 
yours. If so, you were meant to 
have it. Keep it safe. Use wisely.

 

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