Until Then....
for you who speak knowingly of eternity,
though your lips tremble when you speak.
and you keep turning and looking behind you,
as if afraid something is catching up.
those who would sell salvation by barker or vendor,
yet hurry inside when darkness falls.
who bear the cross of condemnation,
proudly for the world to see....
i wish you well may peace find you.
i look not to yonder shore,
nor speak with words that ply.
i will not wear the suit and tie,
nor follow the path prescribed.
yet i long to feel the presence,
in every moment, in every step taken.
i dare not reach for the star in the dead of night,
for i know the star will come to me.
and it is in the silence that i hear,
the very heartbeat of god....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bring The Dawn!
i am the page earmarked
by an angry god,
the end of tired thought,
the beginning of passion.
i am the spirit of fire,
setting buildings ablaze...
the bell ringing,
in the ancient tower.
i am the dark skinned lover,
who comes in the night.
the sharpened axe,
the hammer of dawn.
i am the eyes of hunger,
and the voice of need.
i am the weight of conscience,
the trench dug, and feet planted.
i am the smell of the heart,
you cant wash off your hands.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Darkness Dream
i dreamed...
i was lost in the night,
making my way through the trees.
small branches lashed against my face,
i could feel stone beneath my feet.
and somewhere near, but far, the sound of water.
wrapped in the stillness of night,
that has its own sounds,
its own smells.
haunted by something i couldnt define,
almost the feeling of being stalked.
i finally made my way to a moonlit clearing.
a flock of small birds rose in front of me.
in the field were children,
different colors, different languages,
all different ages...
children, playing together.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dhammic Socialism
if you break down the teachings...
of Jesus, Buddha, and all the great
spiritual teachers...
looked at their lives,
and their paths,
would this not be it?
break down prejudice,
profit, and materialism...
to the core of our beings,
we are family.
we need each other,
need to be needed by each other.
compassion demands
that we are responsible!
the fact that we allow
people to go hungry,
to be homeless,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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October Sundown
October sundown
spillt o'er rainswept
mountains undressed,
lit by the Painter's brush;
momentarily...
sucks the oxygen
from the air,
leaving me gasping
for words....
........2........
the hands on the great clock
bent under the weight,
waves pounding hard against
the breakers.
the fire flickers, almost dies,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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On The Banks of The Shore
have i wandered too far this time
to feel the presence of Your hand
i cant say that i've been blind
building castles in the sand
seems kinda funny for me to say
words i've said before
feeling's too heavy for me to pray
on the banks of the shore
on the banks of the shore
at the foot of the cross
my heart's aching and sore
and my soul's feeling lost...
could You spare an angel or two
put a rainbow in the sky
just to let me know that You
care if i live or die
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bread And Wine!
i saw the buddha
in the eyes of the prisoner,
waiting to be executed.
our system of justice,
demands retribution,
as long as it's someone else!
preferably,
someone poor,
addicted, uneducated,
black, Hispanic,
or just plain old
white trailer trash.
the homeless man,
the man who's lost it all,
the man with no job,
no future, no dream...
no one will miss them anyway!
while the 'gods of success',
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Fireflies In The Dark
like fireflies in the dark,
those who stand firm are taken,
stamped, and put out...
you silence the human cries
of freedom, ban books,
ideas... ban all thinking.
take anything original
back to the assembly line;
to be remade, reformed....
in the image of mindless
obedience... trained to kill,
trained to follow... trained to hate.
while the lovers of trees, rivers,
and mountains... become
the new faceless minority....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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They Cant Afford!
no prayer in schools,
no moment of silence...
might cause disrespect
of other faiths....
ban the books
that dont march to the beat,
that dont follow the lie...
no discipline, no values,
let them learn at home....
give them a crack pipe,
teach them to abuse
anyone that's different...
teach them to make money....
for you! ....
send the ones that fall out
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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I'm Going Home (For Doc Watson)
this lonesome journey,
this river running.
this wind that never
had a home.
this lonesome prayer,
searching and hunting...
it's almost over,
i'm nearly gone.
this soul has wandered,
the hills and valleys.
this body going
from town to town.
just this old guitar,
the songs inside me.
now it's time,
i'm going home.
gonna find my heart,
somewhere out there.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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