The Beauty of Peace

I’m looking down, on the green and blue,
With clouds above, between me and you.

The beauty of this place called earth,
It’s plain to see it now deserves,
An end to all this war and dread,
Redirected to pure love instead,
Angels work by our sides,
To put an end to earth’s decline.

Stand up for oneness,
As we’re all the same,
Beams of light from where we came,
The source of life that’s all around,
Energetic realms dimensions found,
Shifting between the beams of light,
It’s time for all on earth, to fly.

The balance of all life on earth,
Will be returned, as it’s now deserved,
To the peaceful surroundings in which we live,
Harmonious melodies of love will sing,
Between you and me, and every living thing.

A flotilla of angels, will line the streets,
With cries of peace, as their lights released,
Time on earth for angels work, to come to an end,
When earth is served, with eternal loving peace,
In the hearts of all living free.

No longer exists, any pain,
Just love vibrations, for all to gain,
The time is now to stand together,
There is no storm we cannot weather,
Join the light and shine it bright,
Over the beauty, of the green and blue,
That will soon exist, with love that blooms.

Written by Jason Petch 30/11/14


And what of the Jyn. A continuation of The Journey of the Great Ice saga.

In a time so far back as to be lost in the dust of times past there lived two greatInuit civilizations referred to in these writings as the White Jyn and the Black Jyn, for these are the titles given to them, titles given by the very few peaceful tribes surviving them, and living in what would later be called Tibet. Very little of life of any kind survived meeting of either of the Jyn long enough to learn what it was they named themselves. The Jyn were quite simply the most war raging groups of human beings ever to exist, and having reached a very high state of science and engineering their war prowess was intimidating indeed. so the White Jyn and the Black Jyn warred, slaughtering each other to the very verge of extinction, sweeping all life away before them in their combined madness for superiority and control. Any other life form, upon finding itself in the way of their onslaught, including the peaceful Peoples and tribes of the eastern regions, soon perished.
And so thus it continued for hundreds of thousands of centuries, the Earth becoming more and more poisoned but the weapons of the Jyn, both nuclear and neutrino, being shot around like a child using a slingshot and pocket full of rocks to knock cans off a fence, all life fading more and more, until the Earth had reached to point that the Jyn both decided to reach out for something else. They put their mighty technology to work and amassed a mighty space Armada, both travelling to the planet we now call Mars, at that time a teeming planet with liquid water, and an atmosphere of mostly carbon dioxide and methane . They set up bases on opposite sides of the planet and them started to work building huge atmospheric processor plants and habitats including the engineering and construction of crop growing resources so as to be ready for the coming of the rest of their Peoples. SpaceShip(crashed Jyn Space Ship)
Yet even as they worked to do these things they warred in orbit. From the White Jyn base on the face of the Earth’s moon, a mighty new neutrino weapon was created, something that scared even the White Jyn. But they immediately moved it with their fleet to attack the Black Jyn on the base on the Martian moon. Even though loosing most of their attacking fleet the White Jyn launched their weapon and the explosion lit the very universe around them, knocking the Martian moon out of orbit and into a new orbit much closer to Sol, creating what we now call today the planet Mercury. And though a great conquest, because of the destruction of the Black Jyn base and much of its fleet, at a very high price indeed, for most of the White Jyn fleet was lost too., and worse, by observing  and analysing the attack, the White Jyn still on Earth immediately began to build the same type of weapon again for themselves. While the White Jyn constructed their most deadly of weapons the war in Earth orbit continued between the much reduced fleets. Shear misses dappled the Earth moon for the rest of eternity while the two enemies continued to fight. The new weapon ready, a shuttle carrying it launched for orbit and a final strike at the Black Jyn, but as it climbed a Black Jyn fighter came screaming into the atmosphere and destroyed the shuttle which allowed the weapon to fall back of the face of the Earth where it detonated upon impact, sending shock waves around the globe, and shaking the Earth to its very core, and tilting it permanently on its axis. Over 98% of the large animals were instantly killed, and very few of the smaller ones survived.
As for the human species, few indeed were left, and those were basically in the far east, and those of the Jyn that had been shielded in their mysterious great structures. Whole continents were torn apart or shoved together creating a whole new Earth, The whole of the weather patterns changed, An Ice age began building and moving down from the north further challenging the survivors in the east. The White Jyn found themselves in a water poor land limited environment, separated from others by what was now a great sea, while the Black Jyn found themselves on a very large separate continent made up of a multitude of different climates. No where could you find living the greatest of animals, all dead and gone. And still, the battle in orbit continued, and now word came from the Martian colonies, war had begun there too. With the gratefully limited and subdued Jyn on the Face of Earth, peace was almost a thing of which once dreamed, for their great cities were gone leaving no trace, and almost all of their technology as well.
The peace-loving tribes of the east made it a ritual to go out each night and watch the battle overhead, noting that it lessened and lessened night after night, and at long last it seemed over. Had they been able to go up into space and look, they would have seen the last of the great fleets in pieces, drifting slowly toward the Oort cloud or the rings of Saturn. The peaceful tribes spent their time learning how to survive the changes in their world, while their Elders set about to organize a structured way to retain and teach the nature and history of the tribes, including but far from limited to the spiritual and mystic rights held for so many thousands of lifetimes. The Elders worked with the children each day teaching of respect and love for all things, and of walking the path of the Tao. Those that showed an above average talent in some temple oriented task were invited to become temple disciples, leading to their advanced teachings. And so it was one night about 200 years after the last sign of Jyn fighting high in the sky, as one of the Elders and a young child sat out enjoying a beautiful clear night the 7-year-old child said            “Grandfather, I feel something terrible is going to happen.” The Elder asked what is it you feel is going to happen my young friend. The child didn’t answer simply pointing a finger up into the sky at a bright blue star. And as he and the Elder watch that star suddenly flared brightly finishing by turning red as it dimmed going almost dark. The Elder asked the child How did you know this was going to happen young man, and what is it that we just watched? The child while still looking up at the now barely seen red dot answered “Well Grandfather, while practising meditation as you all would have us do, I found myself flying to another place, and flying over that place I saw many of what you have described as the Jyn, only they had none of the flying machines. They were engaged in a mighty war using lumbering ground machines and truly terrible weapons. All of them had strange masks upon their faces and somehow I knew the air was fouled in some way. As I drifted across their sky I came to a place where those on the ground were constructing a long sleek weapon that would be flown against their enemy, a terrible weapon Grandfather, I could feel it’s evil. The world slipped and suddenly I found myself flying above the other side, and below me I saw that they were constructing six of the same type weapons as the first, only slightly smaller. And the whole time those others on the ground kept fighting, and Grandfather I noticed something else.” What was that my young friend? asked the Elder. The child replied “Every time those on the ground fire their terrible weapons a bit of the sky around me burned, it burned Grandfather, then everything seemed to slide again and as I floated in their sky I saw the larger terrible weapon burning up into the sky on 4 tails of fire, and at the same time all of the weapons from the other side of their world burned their way into the sky. They passed each other heading for the assembly places on each side of their world, and Grandfather, it was terrible Grandfather, as you also saw. A whole teeming, living world burned out into a wasted dead red rock. Nothing at all left living, oceans gone so that not even vapour, all the teeming waters gone in that instant. A whole world Grandfather, Gone.” The Elder squatted down next to the child, and taking him in his arms gently hugged him while saying you have done well my son, you have done well.

Unnecessary Man

The river’s tent has broken, the last fingers of leaf fall
Clutching and sink to wet bank, spring anew winds come
Dancing and swirling across snow gone landscape, unheard.

Liken nymphs splay in the fields.

Sweet streams, run softly, till I end this my song.
With no empty bottles, sandwich papers, or rot,
No silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of Man’s disrespect.

To which the nymphs would depart, their spirit no more.

And of man and his friends, heirs of cities for dark,
Let them depart and be gone, the Earth miss them not.




I look to the North and I see the people scratching and digging at the Earth Mother’s face. Leaving nothing but waste and death behind them, they forsake all of the gifts and life in their greed at collecting the dead leaves.

I look to the East and I see them wrapped in petty war and strife, a continuing fight over words of religions and politics. Gone are the ways of peace, the way taught so long by the old ones, the way needed for them to truly grow as a people.

I look to the South and I see nothing but need, want, and destruction. Where gone their knowing how to serve a need, how to reach out with helping hands to aid those that would become brothers and sisters?

I look to the West and I see only death for the people. Though I and others try with our poorly written words to help them understand, helping them remember what is truly important in life, our words fail or go unheard.

I beg they forgive me for my inability to help them in their need, to help them gain the understanding they so need, and I beg you most Grandfather to forgive me for my failing of you.

Season before Fall

Season before Fall

I stand on this hill and time stands with me
As people go flashing by liken ants at the nest
A few say hello, some stop to say hi.
And the birds shall come from the cool northern skies,
How they dart, how they fly, dancing in this summer sunrise.

Parks and paths filled with all who are able,
Fruit and seeds, a late evening tale.
The flight of owl at end as the night turns to day,
Drifting scent of the rose, not seen by this weak morning light.

The leaves, they don’t fall, for they are rich and worth keeping,
While warm rays from the stars, no weeping, no weeping.
For the brown and the dark, it will come at a call,
But not before we live through The Season before The Fall.

Steve Whitacre April 27th 2010

Old wisdom

Night still and quiet, tensed calm before the storm
Moon cast shadows dancing across the plains
A soft amber glow, heralding the coming new day
Desolate baleful calls drifting echo on the wind
I stand silent and listen in deepest awe

Majestic Wolf, poised upon the high peek
Scanning ground, ever alert, pack drifting all around
Head back, voicing song, an old cry for the elders
Howled spirit songs, piercing the edged night
And now the pack joins in

Sweetest harmony, a sacred blend
Calls reaching up to the heavens
The star lit sky alums their blissful smiles
These, the ancestor’s affectionate eyes
The pack closes

Wise beyond words, seen in his soulful eyes
Perception liken the world of old
They’d soon to retire, back to the den and safety
But first they must finish, this ritual of love
And thank mystery for the success of the hunt

The tribes, the packs, people of all clans
Had once lived remarkably different
For the world was at peace, as created and made
Meant for all life to share
And as daylight grows closer, they break from the song
Ease away toward their homes, journey done
And a thought comes to my mind, as I watched them depart
Would my people ever to learn

Could they make time, to stand on this hill
To listen and learn what is needed
Would they ever hear, or even imagine
The quiet wise pleas of the Mother

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 2nd, 2007


The wind whispering through the threadbare trees
The blossoms all fallen, the leaves long gone
No bird sound to fill the air, all now far to the south
A boundless desolate landscape, barren and awash
The bright days of yesterday, now dimmed and demure
Stark and almost silent, hard edged and cool

Faint echoes of the past bringing pain to my ears
A fear that what is lost, no more than misguided dream
The frantic search beginning, for any last sign at all
Of the boundless life, the fresh new growth
For any life at all

Breathless now, exhausted and weak
I drop to the sand dry ground
As tears explode and questions come
Is this the end times now

I sit here on this cold dry ground, arms wrapped around my knees
My eyes awash, they cannot see, I miss what’s in front of me
For the world awakes, the change is come
The first snow begins to fall

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre September 13th, 2007

Oily Tears

I stand and watch as the mother cries,
As she hears the sad news that her son has died,
And he didn’t die from sick or ill,
Nor in a wreck in the dark of night,
He died doing what they told him was right.

I watch the father try to hold back his tears,
His son had lived a scarce 19 years,
Death had come nine thousand of miles away,
So what was there left for a poor father to say?
He gets down to tired knees, head bowed to pray,
At least this son knows this father does care.

I stand and watch as a little girl cries,
She doesn’t understand why her brother has died,
Why he will never again, play on the lawn.
And my own tears run, as she sees he is gone,

And knowing the answer, it brings me so low
Her big brother died, with heart strong and true
He fought to protect, both his family and you
He fought as they told him, the danger they planted
Never knowing their greed, or the oil that they wanted

With the power of darkness, illusion and greed
They create all the enemies ever to need
For in keeping us locked in ignorance and fear
They maintain their control for year after year

And I pray, may the light shine upon you, may it open your eyes
May this world reawaken before the next glorious sunrise
Relearn the value, of the Earth Mother’s ways
Rebuild the love and push the darkness away…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre September 29th, 2007