So here’s the first poem I’m working with for Fighting for Peace. Feeling a call to make it more lyrical, but not sure I’m gonna do that.

The Letter’s arrived and they’re asking you –
Will you come to serve as a secret agent?
Everything will have to seem the same
Mornings and driving and buying things no one needs,
But when you are in the store,
You will be looking at souls
Instead of price tags,
Measuring the brands you find there.
When you talk with yearning 30-somethings over beer,
They will be talking about the news, but you
Will be talking, clandestinely, about the heart.

You’ll be in a board meeting where they are discussing margins
And fiduciary planning,
And every one of the slides in your Powerpoint will be about
Losing yourself and finding the divine.

Sometimes you might see another agent in the room,
Whose twinkle gives her away, and you will only
Acknowledge her with an opening of desire.

Soon, you may find them more and more.
Wherever you go: poodle parlors and supermarkets,
Stocking the vegetables with wonder and the hairdos with delight.

We will meet in open secrets, in beauty, and before you know it,
the whole world will be alive, and the very last person will get the letter.
Or is that what is happening now,
and is cunning delight already taking over
The world?