Strong Arms…
…don’t make Peace, Man!
Let’s face it - guns are made to kill,
whether deer, rabbit, lynx or eagle
(ego-loath to lose top spot on the predators’ trophic cascade);
a matter of purely so-called trade:
as much a lucrative business
as any mafia cartels’ stashes
and narco-sub enterprises;
as any bloodstained laundered gold
-the chemists’ big pharma complicit.
All are heinously entangled in the dessicatory processes of corruption.
Strength of arms can hold and cherish. Love, imperishable…
else, perish.
A gun is the malignant pointing finger of a trigger,
backed by a mindseye which in turn
has a deadly intent.
The fear-riddled, hominid mammal
may convince it’s little self
that this is a survival necessity;
it needs the dosh:
security for its privilege, it’s priority kin, tribe, nation, class, sect or faith.
Enabled and enacted by motives of fear, if not greed, ignorance?
Give over, O deluded ones!
That's the desperate and craven mindset resort of weakness per se,
inexcusable, unmitigated.
And surely, unsustainable, doomed.
——-
So much for all that clear seeing!
Bewaring of hubric judgment!
Remember that Light is Life Itself -
is Loving - is hope - is free and creative
with ineffable power divine.
Let us rest the case there.
May