The power of God, natural things, Earth
is nothing to the loud player of God,
revving and burning earth, running, driving
around—even “flying.”

No thought to the deer, the coyote, the birds
in flight running scared—the human mark
is felt, we have forgotten our place on the
ground, where spirit soars.

We want larger, bigger, and better, then hand
power over to the violent—uniformed police
and military, “make us safe” at any cost,
bullets to the torso, sirens and noise…

Boys will be boys, girls girls, Something there
is that suffers under the engines and rotors
of “progress,” the cement, asphalt and sky-
scraping truth of Hell planted in soil.

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
people too—too hot for me and you, “To
serve and protect” an expression neglected
on the firing range, as boys learn to kill,

Call it self-defense, put on a vest, say “we’re
keeping folks safe”—even Saving Lives!!  I say
that God saves on the phone line, hang up
with watch commanders, whose minds

are set on killing peace.

I thought cops were “peace officers,” but
how could they be with all their noise?

Shhhhhh!  Be quiet.  God’s at work, think
of the deer.  Shhhh!  Be quiet.  Act like you’ve
been here before, apologize to Mother Nature,
let’s change, go back to God.

Shhhh!  You want to make sounds, sing a song,
find an instrument, play like David did for
praise and love of life!!!  Be a hero in the strife!

Let’s harken back to a better time, I’m not
saying it’s all been bad but helicopters should
be scrapped—they do not please the LORD.

How many times does God talk through wind
in trees, the birds and bees, and we crank up
a huge engine, do whatever evil we please.

Putting yourself first can go along the road
a while, but there is a point at which the
selfish life fails, that point when news choppers
hover over my house, and I ask them

“What’s the deal?”

Really??  You call this news service, getting us
stories on our TV, that’s worth WRECKING THE
PEACE for miles and miles, I say it’s not!!!

Stand with me, it’s not!!!

Shhhhhhh!  Be quiet, so I can hear the LORD.

Shhhhhhh!  Earth is the right place for love,
haven’t you heard?

Robert Frost was the worst farmer in four counties,
but man he had peace and with a pen knew
what to do with it.

Mind the deer, the buck playing with cheer,
antler on antler, gorgeous hillsides teeming
with life and quiet, giving birth to the next
generation of joy—

that horrible, grinding, yelling buzz of choppers
and their engines, go away!!

Pilots, heal thyself, and come back to sanity,
to walk with me, get out of even your cars, use
your five senses, put your muscles into motion,
stop earth-burning and propelling to use
the machine God gave us, perfect and clean.

Okay, so we’re not always clean, but you know
what I mean…

We’re better off as king of animals, not the sky;
give the sky back to Peace, do it before of
noise pollution we surely die.

Uniformed excusers, you are not saving lives,
you are shutting joy out of life, put rubber
bullets in your chambers, start to live by ten
commandments, the sixth not to kill or murder,

we can turn this “progress” ship around, make it
work, our best qualities undress and give before
we scare the next wild animal clan extinct,

lost to the map of life forever…

Manly men, sports and alcohol, we’re so tough
we don’t need you all—off we go, above the earth,
“we’re saving lives” while we kill the peace, it
makes no sense, nor dollars—

heck, crown Mike Pence!

Fire Samuel, make God our king, we need to live
quiet as deer if we want to protect the land to
keep them here.

In native language, my name is Naked Horse,
I reach out to your spirit, save your soul, come
with me, save the trees.

Leave the heliport, to Police I say “Turn it
all into a foot patrol station,” come out to
schools, teach about law and put your lethal
guns away.

Shhhhh!  Make no noise, walk slow and soft
over leaves as you approach, and the buck,
so pretty in the muck, will find his dream
like yours here on earth opposed to fear don’t
duck the humble needs we have, rest in the
mother’s arms, the dirt our home—our friend,
fear it not, return to peace, return to love,
the deer at play, the seer finally saying what he
sees:

Shhh!  It’s a deer crossing; let’s welcome
peace back in our day!