Impelled :: Healing Through Dialogue

From poem #251 - I try to move the reader even more and set out to heal through dialogue and words


472 Work

let work morph into it's divine future and no longer maim or control. This very moment, we withdraw our sanction from poverty, homelessness and war. We eliminate the need for banks, debt and taxes forever!

Rhyme Scheme: Blank Verse

We usually only see work as a little thing that sustains our own lives.
But as a macrocosm, work is due to undergo many metamorphoses.
We enact reforms here and search for utopia there all the while thinking
When that grand Yoga will change the very way we work in it's entirety.

Is is possible that one day we'll dance at the Divine's Ball on a Common Planet?
Where we'll no longer have masters or monarchs, be Lords of our destinies.
I pray you to look at the evolution of economics laid out by Remzi Bajrami,
And tell us it is indeed time to let go the old ways of subjugation and cruelty.

I say we need his Flow Credit system if we are indeed going to make the world work.
We some have our epiphanies and this was his, to make our society work.
It's broken down and we're all circling the drain as failed social mutations.
And cancerous companies grow ever more fearsome as they lack a heart that sings.

Sings a balming profundity that each shall be his brother's and sister's keeper,
Learn what character truly is like those indigenous people had of old.
In our madness for sustenance, did we stop letting the Yoga do its work?
Let's now let work morph into it's divine future and no longer maim or control.

This very moment, we withdraw our sanction from poverty, homelessness and war.
We eliminate the need for banks, debt and taxes forever!
Let's imagine a world which is fair and that begs us to be good to one another,
Especially on the work front for then we would have the ingredients for a world wide utopia.


PREVIOUS:

471 City Mine →

Oh the friends I leave in your care as I trot to my new home with my old fife. Especially the ones you took to your bosom for they'd borne too much of life.

NEXT:

473 Mrityormam →

There's a part inside us that's strong though grieving. It wants to sing your praise, but also is filled with sighs. All through your life, we never at your hand stopped receiving.