IN PEACE by Helen Losse

Peace

If we believe,
as we say we believe,
that there is a
knowledge that passes
beyond all we know
or can even hope to know
now, past all we can dream by
the rushing river or realize once
the frenzy of mystical vision is gone,
and if, in choosing to believe,
we get to knowledge-beyond-knowledge
that we do not fully possess
but believe is God-imbued,
so that just as the stream,
encountering the worn rocks and the urgent falls,
does not question the source
either of its being or its continuance,
but flows—trusting—toward the closest sea,
somehow we know without knowing
that we more than endure,
ride in wide-loving arms.

Now that’s something to know.

So why don’t we live
like the bell-shaped lilies live,
growing and thriving in peace?

First published in Domicile...



Please visit Helen at Windows Toward the World

How To Be Free in a War-Ridden World

On the Importance of Writing and Other Creative Modes of Expression: Or How To Be Free in a War-Ridden World
by Helen Losse

Writing is a process whereby we set ourselves free - not always in our circumstances but in our minds and souls and hearts. This doesn’t mean everything is right in the world; it means there is a germ of hope that no human being can completely stamp out. It means we are because God is, and that hope is the joy of this reality – the promise of heaven.

Writing allows us entry, if only for a moment, to that place where joy is the norm, which in turn gives us the hope that we can create this peace for all people. We need not only writing with words but with music, and painting with color. Because of Hitler, we read Ann Frank. Because the world knows war, we need Beethoven’s joy more than ever. The muses must bring reality, because we live in a violent world.

In writing, we gain a grip on reality that the world has dismissed. We reclaim precious values. The writing of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” is not only possible in a war-torn world, it is essential to the possibility of peace.

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Developed from a comment at Sherry Chandler's blog. Cross-posted at Windows Toward the World.

SONGS OF WAR by Helen Losse

Perhaps, the adage believed by children is true.

It concerns the way they view the world,
line blasted streets.

The men will die for those who govern,
singing songs of war and trumped-up creeds,
pitting brother against brother, maiming for life.

The sucking babes who cannot cry
have parched throats—throats that swell
amid the rubble. Have those children no homes,
no mothers?


first published in Poets Against the War (February 2003)

About More Than Just the Springtime

by Helen Losse

It is true the springtime flowers
have blossomed forth, forsythia first,
daffodils, followed by the Bradford Pear.
Then the Dogwood. The azaleas—
various kinds, colors—slowly stagger
their release of blossom over several weeks.
And now lilies of the valley—
perfect, lacy hanging bells—grow
on the north side of the house.

It is true that tiny violets covered
much of the yard before our John Deere
tractor moved them away and that two tender-
hearted children rescued a sick, baby bird.
They put it in a cage, unaware
that it might give them lice. Or worse yet,
West Nile Virus. But this concerns more
than just the springtime. Much more than
the flowers. More even than the baby bird,

‘though I picture him still.
This is to inform readers that in August
Shane and his buddies are going to be
jet-planed to Iraq. The President’s veto kept
the bill—that could have kept them safe—
from becoming the law. This is about
the blood that flows through soldiers’ human
veins, the senseless violence they endure,
and the prayer I have begun praying.

Please visit Helen at Windows Toward the World

NEXT TO THE GREAT, GREEN SEA by Helen Losse

I rose from my rest on the sandy shore,
next to the great, rolling sea. The ocean
breeze felt as soft as my lover’s
eye-kiss. The color of ocean was green.

God’s greatest hope is a great, green earth—
a brother hugging a brother, a sister her
sister. The sky held the cinema show,
Concerning Clouds. One of the clouds told
the unedited story. So it’s normal that
news about starvation unsettled me:

The ugly facts: a blotchy face, a bloated
belly. Myriads of people. Mushy-brown rice.
Black maggots, maybe. Maybe.
Then why a rainbow came clearly informs.

Seven soft pastels over the water,
spilling onto the beach in concentric bands.
God-promised colors by the great, green sea
answer several questions I did not ask.

Please visit Helen at her blog Windows Toward The World

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