The Unimagined Country

Originally posted 4/29/2013.

Yet-to-be-fully-imagined country
we all want to live in,

miles of plains, mountains,
peace groves full of lemon trees, country

where we let
our own blood

into the garden soil
to feed it,

where we all sing 
in our own tongues in front yards, 

kneel silently in back yards
under the open sky seeking guidance

or a little rain; country yet-to-be founded,
someday-to-be rich and storied;

abandoned, rediscovered,
abandoned again;

country, not nation, not state;
homeland, not seat of empire;

country yet-to-be ours, country
we’ll have to define, we’ll want to defend

against the poisons of borders,
flags, anthems, suspicions;

on the day we come into that country
we’ll look into each other’s eyes

and know what to name it 
without hearing a single campaign speech,

know how to run it
without a single task force,

know how to love it
without a single weapon;

we’ll know we’ve truly settled there
when we can look into each other’s eyes

and see a neighbor, a cousin,
or a self, no matter what else we see.