Thanks Carlotta.
I must say I've been very inspired today.
In dreams I see a world for all
where peace and wisdom reign
Where no child lives a moment
Amid poverty's dark stain.
But if we're careful listeners
even here amidst the madness
sweet tones of pure and honest truth
can help us bear the sadness,
of a world that's cold and full of pain
but also full of love
Our eyes must lift up from the dirt
And to the stars above.
Let freedom guide our hearts and souls
our bodies and our minds.
And once we have unloosed our chains
Our purpose we will find.
Our lives are but the songs we sing
I heard when just a child
So let us sing a joyous psalm
no evil can defile
I'll tell my children - you tell yours
"Let no one else define you"
and then they'll live with freedom's gift
to live the life they're called to.
This thread has really blossomed without me. I should take a hiatus more often.
#35
A String From Aidan's Theme
What is Goodness
Without a yang?
It's a ponderous thought
That the collective has mused
Since our days in the Garden
Cain started it
It will never end
My friend
But the beautiful thing
Freedom's gift of free will
Trumps over all
Choose to do Good
Choose again, and again
And the children will follow
And the world will go on
Yin and yang
#36
This Bone-House
Inside this bone-house, as Hopkins named it
One with fetters to the mossy earth
And nothing more than spirit to release it
Wills to fly, but higher than the birds
Crack the bone-cage open, soar
Look back and finally see the pattern
Of all the hours, days and minutes spent
Imprisoned, bound by all things clay
Waiting for the day when these invisible
Bars release the flapping thing inside
And the bone-house crumbles into dust
And scatters in the wind.
Dust in the wind
This world is a herd of sand-dunes
Always being moved, shaped, chagrinned
Aimlessly led by ancient runes
(To be cont.)
(cont.)
Lives sliced by fast knives of the past
Festering cuts bleed openly
Useless was the love we amassed
Watch your lovers scream quietly;
The wise old mages heal your heart
But if the pain of your soul numbs
Just close your eyes and do your part
'Cause the peace to end all peace comes.
#40
A clean sweep, a ruthless purge
Objects to be organized
A collection of frogs, a drawer full of pens
Phone numbers I don't recognize
The magazines, the potted plants
Dead for a very long time
That funky black thingy that sits on my desk
The clock with the broken chime
Half-read books on every table
Another stack beside my bed
Cobweb corners, closets of junk
Life's detritus clutters my head
A clean sweep, a ruthless purge
Return the things I've borrowed
Clean the cupboards, make the beds -
I'll do it all tomorrow
#41
I said things in the heat of the moment
In the heat of the moment they were true
But not true enough to hurt a friend
A friend of many years standing
A friend who knew me when
So please forgive this thoughtlessness
Thoughtless words in anger spoken
Regretted ever after. And once more
Begin the heavy task of mending hearts
And becoming friends again.
Alcohol
A life too fast, a vision blurred,
An unsteady walk, a speech slurred,
The bottle is much too empty,
All alone, pain's all I can see.
Visions and dreamscapes surrounding,
Pain is such, it is astounding,
And I can drown my hard sorrows,
In this sinful liquid, God knows,
But can He see how hard I've tried?
Or see the truth I have denied?
#42
oh, gray, gray dawn
autumn's knights have fled
the foggy breath of winter's dragon
precedes its heavy tread
#43
A bike ride at dusk, earlier now
Time falls back, but the night descends
Windswept leaves, those littering eddies,
Hide the borders where pavement ends
Pumpkin faces on porches and stoops,
Slant-eyed watchers with wicked leers,
Try to scare all who cross their path
When the witching hour hangs so near
Broken Soul
It's cold inside my head
And there's nothing to keep
Me from freezing until I'm dead,
Or my faith from making that leap;
Nothing to keep me sane
Or keep my heart whole
I have become so inane;
No one can heal my broken soul.
All Soul's Day
Two separate selves-they are
Cut from the same cloth-
their individual pieces matching as if
made to be sewn together along a
seam.
A fullness of time and place
Dark November days disguise
what is known only to them-
that this is their season,
their truth.
They've sown a patchwork
Field of sighs and
Reaped a harvest of
Secrets and
Smiles.
#45
All Hallow's Eve; banish demons on this day
Mock them all with props and taunts, frighten them away
Allhallomas, All Saint's Day; praise the martyrs' deaths
Faithful ones transcendent until their dying breaths
All Soul's Day; those legions gone, and seen no more
Remembrance by the living of the ones that came before
