Our Earth is wounded. Her oceans and lakes are sick; her rivers

are like running sores; The air is filled with subtle poisons. And the oily

smoke of countless hellish fires blackens the sun. Men and women,

scattered from homeland, family, friends, wander desolate and uncertain,

scorched by a toxic sun....

In this desert of frightened, blind uncertainty, some take refuge in

the pursuit of power. Some become manipulators of illusion and deceit.

If wisdom and harmony still dwell in this world, as other than a dream lost

in an unopened book, they are hidden in our heartbeat.

And it is from our hearts that we cry out. We cry out and our voices

are the single voice of this wounded earth. Our cries are a

great wind across teh earth.

~The Warrior Song of King Gezar