A poem about Frank Moore

by Tim Wozny

Anger wells up as I read the words

Comments so out of line to what is being said

They don’t know him like I do

Ignorant comments meant to cut deep

And I get angrier and angrier

And then he speaks and the room melts

No anger, no hate

An understanding that only he can comprehend

And he laughs at their cruel jokes

And tops them with his own

And he is laughing at them

He is reveling in their ignorance

And he teaches them

And he teaches me

Security is not supplied from forces outside the circle

It’s formed inside the circle

From within the soul

And he quiets them and they listen

Not to his voice, but to his heart

And to his mind

That has had years to form, while his body didn’t

And as I sit and listen to his words

I look inside my self

And the anger subsides

His words speak a wisdom of pain

Pain turned to power and power

Turned to love

For my ignorance is turned to knowledge

And if ignorance is, bliss

He is a master of making people blissless

For he will not let you remain ignorant

He will speak no matter if we listen

But we can not listen without learning

And this is his role

Not to save us

But to allow us to save ourselves

To be rid the ignorance that binds us to blind hate

To be rid the ignorance that holds us back

To transmute our disabilities

To the realm of all possibilities

--Tim Wozny

September, 1998

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