Meet Me There Poem by Erin Cowart

In this new world let us not talk of order
Let us talk of peace
Order is the ugly step-child of peace
Used when humanity refuses to be peaceful

Order commands
Sets things to rights by force
Real or threatened

Peace accepts
Sets things to rights by love
Real and unfeigned

Let us walk about under the dome of the sky
As brothers
You in your clothes and me in mine
Shake the dust of generations
And wars of nations from our shoulders
And meet under the shade tree

We can speak of our lives in hushed tones
Lovers we have loved
Food we have eaten
Sunrises we have wept at
Deaths we have mourned
Families we have created

We can share an easy laughter
And even lighter tears
For the wasted years in which order reigned

We can lie in the grass and be still
Do nothing
We have forgotten how to do nothing
Be nothing
But human

Not black, not white
Not Christian, not Muslim
Not male, not female
Not gay, not straight
Not other

In the grass all lines could dissolve
All divisions could disappear
All conflicts could end
All lives could be more

If only you would meet me there