Richard Bach . . .
Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding. Find out what you already know and you will see the way to fly.
What do we already know?
We know there’s no light at the end of this war economy tunnel. We know the Wall Street bankers are the tunnel diggers, we know the two-party-system politicians are the shovels, we know whenever a shovel breaks the bankers just buy a new one.
Look beyond the tunnel, look beyond it with your understanding, look above it and you’ll see what has been taken away from us . . .
On a painted sky,
Where the clouds are hung,
For the poet’s eye.
The Truth is an epic poem, everyone who tells it has the soul of a poet and the understanding to see what is not meant to be seen. We see the degradation the tunnel diggers will not speak of, the horrors they will not talk about, the treachery they conceal, the corruption they spread like a plague, the blood on their hands that can never be washed away.
Look with your understanding, and you will see you have wings, you will see the sky above you, you will remember why it is there and who it is for.
You will see there are no limitations.
On a distant shore,
By the wings of dreams,
Through an open door.
Distant shores are not limitations, they are destinations. We are the heirs of seekers of peace and justice and equality who reached distant shores on the wings of dreams, who opened doors to a better world, and now it’s our turn.
Become your understanding. Live your understanding. Live it.
As a page that aches,
For a word which speaks,
On a theme that is timeless
Human dignity is timeless, social justice is timeless, compassion for the poor and the exploited is timeless, the anthems of peace and justice and equality are timeless, they have always been sung and always will be . . .
As a song in search of a voice that is silent.
Write your song for the silent voices, they will sing if there’s Truth in your song, and the more Truth there is in it, the more they will sing.
To a whispered voice,
Overheard by the soul,
Undertook by the heart.
Listen to that whispered voice and remember the oppressed, the silenced, the fallen. Sanctify them. Dissent is a solemn and sacred dance, protest is a solemn and sacred dance, civil disobedience is a solemn and sacred dance. Solemn and scared dances of ultimate meaning and purpose.
Solidarity . . .
Within us all there lies a broken dream.
Within us all there lies the power to restore it.