BY JULIA BUTTERFLY HILL
A poem:
"Me Reflecting You, Reflecting Me"
I do not know anything
that you do not already know
If anything
I might be a till
tilling the fertile soil of your soul
A mirror
cleared of the hazy cloud
of myths and stories
of our time
the ones that do not serve
our highest selves
I do not care what you look like
on the outside
because I see who you ARE
on the inside
That which lives long after
your skin decays
off your bones
and your bones
turn to dust
I see you as legacy
As a story
whose chapters
are crafted
by the artistry of time
dancing with who you are
moment to moment
I see who you are
A profound opportunity
A gorgeous gift
A manifestation of magic
I know who you are
and
I do not know anything
that you do not already know
-August 2006
Another poem:
"What Would Jesus Do?"
Hello world.
Can you come out and play
Today?
Gunshots explode.
Bombs bursting in air,
Give truth in the night
That our ignorance and fear
Are still there.
How many must die?
How many tears must we cry?
How long before
We accept no more
Of things this way?
God Bless America!
As if God created America,
and Satan created everything else?
I grew up reading the Bible,
And I do not remember
It saying,
"In the beginning
God created America."
A final poem:
"Creation"
-written after a vision quest-
You are a part of me,
and I am a part of you.
When one reaches out to another,
then one transforms to two.
But two is never separate
from the one it was before.
If anything two is the possibility
of one becoming more.
And if there were no counting,
no numbers to create a wall,
if we looked in the face of one,
we would see the face of all.
-September 7, 2002