How can you sit and be silent,
while children fade from the sky?
Do your lips not burn with the question
how long, how long, and why?
A man builds thrones from his lying tongue,
and truth is left to die.
Your silence is a shadow’s song
and even shadows cry.
JH
The air grows cool with whispers low
As leaves drift down in a golden flow
The trees wear crowns of russet and flame
Each day arrives yet never the same
A hush of smoke curls from distant fires
The dusk draws near with tender desires
Crisp apples gleam in the orchard light
And owls awaken to sing through the night
The earth now rests in a slower song
The season knows where hearts belong
In fields of bronze and skies of grey
Autumn invites us to linger and stay
JH
There’s a moment in the hush between heartbeats,
When holding on becomes heavier than hope
and in that silence,
you learn the art of release.
You untie the knots you tied in stormy weather,
loosen your grip on ghosts in the mirror,
and find that your hands
though empty
are free.
The past does not apologise,
nor promise not to sting.
But you,
gentle and fierce,
choose peace over proof,
flight over fear.
You are not the branch that broke,
you are the wind that moved on.
Not the anchor rusting below,
but the tide that still sings to the moon.
So let go,
not in weakness
but in wild, sacred strength.
Let go like dusk lets go of the sun,
trusting it will rise again.
JH
A shadow creeps where light once lay,
A poison seeps into the day.
Once hands were clasped in human grace,
Now fear divides and scars replace.
The echoes of the past return,
Old lessons are taught, yet none we learn.
They build their walls, they mark their lines,
With hollow words and hollow spines.
And watch as justice bends and falls.
They paint their hatred in disguise,
Yet we see through their veiled replies.
The colour fades from hopeful dreams,
Replaced by cold and broken schemes.
A love once free is bound in chains,
As tyranny reclaims its reigns.
But still, we rise; we will not bow,
Not then, not ever—not now.
For love will burn through the darkest night,
And truth will stand, and truth will fight.
So let them shout, let them conspire,
We’ll fan the flames, ignite the fire.
For though they try to make us small,
Love and justice rise for all.
JH
I am the hush before the sunrise,
the breath between the words,
a fleeting thought that lingers,
a whisper that still burns.
I am the weight of echoes past,
the spark of what may be,
not just the path I’ve walked before,
but waves still breaking free.
I am the laughter, I am the ache,
I am the stillness and the quake.
I am becoming, I am undone,
I am the night, I am the sun.
No name can hold me, no cage can bind,
I am the seeker, the journey, the find.
Art By Julan
A shadow creeps where light once lay,
A poison seeps into the day.
Once hands were clasped in human grace,
Now fear divides and scars replace.
The echoes of the past return,
Old lessons are taught, yet none we learn.
They build their walls, they mark their lines,
With hollow words and hollow spines.
And watch as justice bends and falls.
They paint their hatred in disguise,
Yet we see through their veiled replies.
The colour fades from hopeful dreams,
Replaced by cold and broken schemes.
A love once free is bound in chains,
As tyranny reclaims its reigns.
But still, we rise; we will not bow,
Not then, not ever—not now.
For love will burn through the darkest night,
And truth will stand, and truth will fight.
So let them shout, let them conspire,
We’ll fan the flames, ignite the fire.
For though they try to make us small,
Love and justice rise for all.
JH
Art By Julan
In the shadowed world, a wound takes root,
A scar from fires we once could not dispute.
They say to suffer is to learn and rise,
But some see vengeance where compassion dies.
Once hurt, once torn, the memories stay,
In haunted nights and bitter day.
With every crack and every scar,
A thirst to right what seems too far.
They say, “We’ve been hurt, we understand,”
But with iron fingers and closed fists land
On foreign soil, with thunder’s might,
To end the pain with a darker night.
Through shattered cities and grieving cries,
They claim their innocence with hollow lies.
The victim turned avenger speaks,
Yet peace and mercy sound too weak.
For how can you heal what you will not see,
Or forgive when vengeance claims victory?
To see the pain in another’s eyes,
Is to break the chain of endless lies.
So lay down the hate and close the scars,
For peace, like dawn, is never far.
If hands once hurt can learn to heal,
Then wounds like theirs can finally feel.
A new light rises when one heart forgives,
And in that choice, true freedom lives.
JH
When voices rage and battle cries ignite,
The world is fractured, torn by endless strife.
Yet peace could rise from shadows of the night,
If words replaced the sharpest edge of life.
Oh, how the tongue, when gentle, heals the pain,
A softer strength than any blade could wield.
For power lies in dialogue, not in gain,
In hearts unarmed, where wounds are gently healed.
Let nations speak with voices calm and clear,
And lay down arms to lift up hope instead.
For peace is not in dominance or fear,
But in the quiet words of love once said.
So, leaders, find your strength in peace’s song—
A voice that whispers where it once was wrong.
JH
Compassion is the bridge that connects us to the shared humanity in every individual, reminding us that everyone carries their own burdens, struggles, and stories. When we extend compassion to others, we acknowledge their worth and offer understanding without judgment. This act of kindness can transform relationships, fostering a sense of community and mutual support. Being compassionate to everyone, regardless of differences, not only enriches their lives but also deepens our own sense of purpose and fulfilment. It creates a ripple effect, where small acts of empathy contribute to a more caring and inclusive world. Lets do this? Please….
Dont listen and assume , learn for yourself about people.
In shadows cast by leaders’ fierce decree,
The common folk still seek a path to peace.
Why must the rulers force our harmony
To shatter, when their quarrels never cease?
Oh, let the mighty find a silent room,
To vent their tempers, not our lands destroy.
For in the garden, flowers cease to bloom
When war’s dark thunder drowns out hope and joy.
Would not the world thrive in united hand,
If love and understanding were our guide?
Erase the lines in every foreign land,
And bridge the chasms, cast our hate aside.
So let the powerful in peace convene,
And leave the world to live in joy serene.
Julan62 