If living were a thing that money could buy, the rich would live and the poor would die.~Folksong ‘All My Trials’ (origin unknown)
The changes are upon us but we don’t know
caught in the momentum of I told you so.
Old ways are dying.
Forced-scarcity profiteers are crying.
Listen, you might fret and mourn
sifting cold ashes, quite forlorn
Imagine no possessions, it’s easy
when you’re immersed in creativity.
Meanwhile the news is spinning a false web
designed and fueled to enslave your poor head.
Leave them to their self-created sorrows.
breathing the new air of our tomorrow.
Open your heart to welcome meanings new
wealth and riches arise in front of you.
Information only wants to be free;
As our intentions matter we will see
Flow our natural state, we rise and sing
each note essential, our voices ring.
Reclaiming the ground seized by the elite
we leave no being behind in penury.
We are each other, separate no more
it dawns on us–oh, of course, we share
giving a pleasure to receive. Owning
was an evil plot to deceive.
We’re graceful as only the free can be
unlock each moment with abundance keys.
The plutocratic hoarders cured of greed
We hold each other in our times of need.