Sanctuary I cry not for you not for me, Sanctuary not a place of exploitation, Sanctuary not a private property for wealth for the few but a welcome to the “Age of Elevation.”
Mantras are sprayed like bombs of undeclared wars over fields of hope, a field that belongs to all and so does the harvest of what we have sown.
Public has become private, alive is the new dead, rules are not just broken but shattered with the same old tools and rebuilt with paint and kisses.
The concrete jungle is blooming in patterns and glyphs, has a new face and it speaks the language of the restless that are looking for a place in the heartland of our cities.
They don’t look for hand me downs but for a shared experience that brings happy back. The deck has been reshuffled. Welcome to the renaissance of good will and even better behavior.
I am an Earthling and so can you
0 comments:
Post a Comment