A world where all remain unfazed,
Don’t see themselves in blame or praise,
Would move with such amazing grace—
Not steeped in guilt, but open faced.

 

No monk, though deep in prayer and still,
Escapes the group’s defining will.
His path diverged invites regret—
Not freedom, but a quiet threat.

 

The tribes that dance beneath the trees
With norms so soft, like summer breeze,
Still tease or turn when one breaks rank—
A peace maintained with social spanks.

 

Even in Japan, where calmness reigns,
With conformity’s rock-hard chains.
With bow, with smile, with saving face—
But underneath, a stifled place.

  True peace begins where defense ends,
With clear respect we choose to send.
Where no one's worth is impugned,
Where right or wrong can never bloom.

 

Intentional groups tried to rise,
Esalen was even somewhat wise.
Yet dreams dissolved in silent war—
As judgment crept back through the door.

 

The part they missed was self’s true role,
Of setting boundaries, remaining whole.
Not lawless, but with open eyes—
With firmness, yet with no bad guys.

 

Our nature’s bent toward pride and shame
Once lit the torches, sparked the flame.
Yet even torture lost its seat—
So too could judgment face defeat.

  True peace begins where defense ends,
With clear respect we choose to send.
Where no one's worth is impugned,
Where right or wrong can never bloom.

In art, let villains take the stage,
Let films burn bright with moral rage.
But life itself can choose release—
From right and wrong, we’ll walk in peace.