Do not whisper to me the doctrines of hate that blot your heart & books,
for I would rather a silent and peaceable heart to keep me company —
One which trades kindnesses across borders familial and international;
Do not tempt me in my poverty with the peaceful sleep of newborn babes,
for I would rather safeguard tots in all the coloured rings of the rainbow
than nod to the rich plots a serpent’s two-tined tongue concocts;
Do not stoke fires that will consume and make ashes of men,
for even if the moon grows red hot, flares like the sun, quits heaven
and threatens Earth, I will not be exiled from here for some unknown hell;
Let me be.
Strike your tongue against your own flint heart &
enjoy that clash in the sandy desert or deep space;
But be sure to waste your own qi;
As for mine, let it alone . . .
Let me be!