I dedicate this poem to Rainbow Farms and to the memory of the strong individuals whom lost there lives in pursuit of liberties.

a new tribe of people shall come unto the earth
from many colors, classes, creeds,

and who by their actions and deeds
shall make the earth green again.

They will be known as the warriors of the Rainbow.'

I have beheld a special love,
from the heart of a little boy.
As he gave to his Mom - a flowery weed,
and her eyes lit up with joy.

I began just then to wonder,
and I asked the Lord above:
If he ever gave Mary a flowery weed,
in appreciation of her unconditional love.

I didn't expect an answer,
for it was only a curious thought.
But then the Good Lord shone down upon me,
The answer that I sought.

"A flowering weed through the eyes of a child,
Is just as precious as a rose.
The fuzz of a dandelion is as a prayer,
as he makes a wish and blows."

"To adults I present the Cannabis Plant,
I give it strength that it will survive.
No matter how much the law mows it down,
It will always remain alive!"

"Take this plant as my gift,
Pass it around with every prayer,
For when you smoke, and take a toke;
You shall find me there."

"Everyone's life is full of trials,
and those who mow us down.
But have faith my child and grow and stand,
with your roots firmly in the groud."

"Roses bloom smelling sweet,
though they are too weak to stand a test.
I find that weeds are strong and hardy,
and always put forth the best."

"Therefore, if a child presents a flowery weed,
to his mother for her undying love.
Then perfect are those who stand strong and true,
To present to the Father Above."

It Happened Down at Rainbow Farm
By Dale & Elizabeth Pfieffer

It happened down at Rainbow Farm
That two good men did come to harm
Because their lifestyle disagreed
And because they smoked some weed.

Grover Crosslin and Roland Rohm
Built themselves a little home
For themselves and their young son
But now their lives fell under the gun.

And two more people had to die
In this land of immeasurable greed,
Making plain the awful lie:
That all is not free in this land of the freed.

So many die here every day
If not from police, from work they bleed,
So listen while I have my say
And hope that it may plant a seed.

They tell us the lie that we are free
They show us what we'd like to see.
They teach us to salute the flag
And support their tyranny as we gag.

Our teachers are trained to sell it in school
Teaching us to bow to the bosses' rule.
Make no dissent or you will pay;
Obey the law and work all day.

And two more people had to die
In this land of immeasurable greed,
Making plain the awful lie:
That all is not free in this land of the freed.

So many die here every day
If not from police, from work they bleed,
So listen while I have my say
And hope that it may plant a seed.

George Washington, he used us well,
And then he sent us off to hell.
He bound us with a constitution
Which cut us off from any solution.

They invented a lie of hypocrisy
And called it a democracy,
Where ultimate power resides in the rich
And the rest of us fight for every stitch.

And two more people had to die
In this land of immeasurable greed,
Making plain the awful lie:
That all is not free in this land of the freed.

So many die here every day
If not from police, from work they bleed,
So listen while I have my say
And hope that it may plant a seed.

Yet if this land were truly free
Then work would be a democracy
And everyone would have the right
To food and shelter for the night

Because there is only democracy
To the extent that there is equality.
And that's the fight for which many have died;
To prevent which right the elite have tried.

And two more people had to die
In this land of immeasurable greed,
Making plain the awful lie:
That all is not free in this land of the freed.

So many die here every day
If not from police, from work they bleed,
So listen while I have my say
And hope that it may plant a seed.

How many died for the eight hour day?
How many died so that children may play?
How many are oppressed for fear they might speak out?
How many are arrested for fear they might break out?

For every right that we have won
Blood has been spilled by the oppressors' gun.
Yet the history books have all been cleansed
And look at the world with a rosy lens.

And two more people had to die
In this land of immeasurable greed,
Making plain the awful lie:
That all is not free in this land of the freed.

So many die here every day
If not from police, from work they bleed,
So listen while I have my say
And hope that it may plant a seed.

And by the media not a word is said
About the many millions of dead,
And how the world has been terrorized
And how the earth has been sterilized.

Every one of us has been bought out.
And if there's ever any doubt,
If anyone should ever stray,
They'll make sure that we will pay.

And two more people had to die
In this land of immeasurable greed,
Making plain the awful lie:
That all is not free in this land of the freed.

So many die here every day
If not from police, from work they bleed,
So listen while I have my say
And hope that it may plant a seed.

They beat us for opposing globalization
And tell us we are betraying our own nation.
They say that to question their policies
Is surely some form of mental disease.

Of course it's a police state, what else could it be
In this land of the brave and home of the free,
Where people are murdered for the dastardly deed
Of supporting the legalization of a weed?

And two more people had to die
In this land of immeasurable greed,
Making plain the awful lie:
That all is not free in this land of the freed.

So many die here every day
If not from police, from work they bleed,
So listen while I have my say
And hope that it may plant a seed.

It happened down at Rainbow Farm
That two good men did come to harm
Because their lifestyle disagreed
And because they smoked some weed.

Grover Crosslin and Roland Rohm
Built themselves a little home
For themselves and their young son
But now their lives fell under the gun.

YOU ARE FREE
(Read by Travis Hopkins during the Memorial)

'Twas the last day of August we'll never forget,
And a warm, pleasant day as the weekend came near.
All the town-folk were chattering closed-minded thoughts
Of a man lost his mind falling off the deep end.
As I looked to the East a black cloud funneled up
And it was a sure sign that it began the end
Of a man's selfless dream of a heart-warming place
That for years stood so strong and they'd come from afar
To this farm in the country surrounded by corn
For a long, peaceful weekend of hastleless highs.
Not a soul would they bother, not a one bothered soul,
Not a handful of violence, not a breath full of hate,
And the music would spill as the bands took the stage.
Hippies preached words of freedom and downed prohibition
And downed the suppressions of our "wonderful" nation.
It was all just too right to be possibly wrong,
And the farm grew much bigger, and then thousands would come.
But we all know that all good things come to an end;
Though we don't understand why our freedom has limits
All we know is we must obey all their rules.
But not Tom, he stood proud, though the prosecutor
Put a price on his head, be it dead or alive.
From their terrorism he began to rebel,
And he posted his message to be seen by all:
"Those who deny a peaceful revolution
Demand a violent one" and we all knew he was real.
So they then got their wish on that warm, summer day.
And as smoke filled the air so did birds of the man,
So the dogs marched around and around Rainbow Farms
Scratching at their ears, wondering what to do now,
And the paper-pushers hold their news conferences
Boasting wishes of peace oxymoronically,
For peace is all he sought but they wouldn't let go.
For four days and three nights they surrounded his land
With the country's top shooters waiting for green lights.
In marched tanks, armored 'Bourbons, all but the kitchen sink,
And we watched them drive through, and we knew what it meant.
And the protesters shouted aloud through their horns,
But we all know the man never listens to us.
So they let loose the dogs, offered him one last chance.
And refused to conform and abide by their Communist ways.
Let be known that he died not only for his freedom,
But for all of our freedom.
And he'd do it again and again and again,
And with every downed soldier, we all die a bit.
And we thank you sir, Tom, for the farm that you built
And the times that we had and we'll see you someday
In the only place that you are totally free. YOU ARE FREE!!!!!

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
(Read by Jody Schwan during the Memorial)

And the priestess spoke again and said: Speak to us of Reason and Pain. And he answered, saying: Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against your passion and appetite. Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody.

But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay the lovers of all your elements. Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction. Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion that it may sing. And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes. I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house. Surely you would not honour one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and faith of both.

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows - then let your heart say in silence, “God rests in reason.” And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, - then let your heart say in awe, “God moves in passion.” And since you are a breath in God’s sphere, and a leaf in God’s forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.

Then Almitra spoke, saying, We would ask you now of Death. And he said: You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond: and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour. Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king? Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt in the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountaintop, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.