ICE with their masks and guns
are hoarders of land, hoarding
land for a government that did
not create the land.

Might does not equal right, less
so if cowardly guns are your
choice for influencing a fight;
you have lost your way.

I myself while growing up on
stolen land was a racist bigot,
sure I was right because I was
white, dancing

somewhere between their march
and the fourth of July. Fireworks
celebrating bombs and guns’
theft of the night.

Who are we to hoard land? Did you,
Government, Create a Single Thing?
Who are you to hoard, cut off,
sequestering a river?

You wall off and divide, you say the
“illegal alien” is a criminal because
they were too poor to wait,
broke through our gate.

The poorest and last will be chosen
first, for the spiritually inclined,
perhaps heaven is a peace of mind;
treat all people with respect.

Treat the poor right, you bet, the
poorest among us perhaps in
God’s eyes the most blessed. The
white supremacist, too…

Who’s poorer than you? Be godlike
in this fight, seed to flower, the
war of staying above the plunder,
God’s thunder,

making us aware this world is
his or hers, not ours… Something there
is, said Frost, that doesn’t love a wall
and wants it down.

Something indeed. Something big and
loving, the same wind that created us,
life and this land made it all for all—
not just the white,

or those so skilled as to charge out
Mom’s womb on this side or another
of a political border. The old precepts
win, grant peace.

Sit back, melt down your guns
and embrace God, your fellow man,
woman, no matter their color or
nationality.

Your nationalism is a false god,
you cannot serve two masters so
love life and its Creator with all your
heart, soul and mind.

Law is man-made, a concept my
ancestors in Norway invented by
writing Things down, laying words
to rest on pages,

Never facts because language is
also a human invention. Something big,
loving and powerful bless us and help
us remember,

for like Merlin said it’s the “doom of men
that they forget.” Remember our place.
We did not make the mountains or
the rain.

Not the rainbow, not the joy we
feel, nor the pain. Love your
enemy, as the wise rebellious
rabbi used to say.

Hating him is too easy, a game
of fools leading us to endless wars
and locking down schools, uniformed
scoundrels claiming police-hood

scouring the hood cursing instead
of blessing, judging instead of
cheerleading. Its own curse.
No one feels it worse,

Than those agents sent by racist,
confused suits in red, white and blue.
Hoarders of land we did not create.
Change now, before it’s too late!