Sunday, October 17, 2010

A Lull Before The Storm

Ah, constant struggle yet
 Cannot reach the flower

 because of the thorn
 crawling and twisting
 trembling, climbing

  Up the tender twig,
  of wings the insect
  is shorn;
  sorrow seeps sinks
  what does one feel?
  Battle, blatant killing
  fields and one thinks
  why are there flowers
 steel and splinter showers?

  'as flies to wanton boys'
    are we, the human beings
    toys?  In the minds
    of sinners and sinning?
    When will love again
    Be born?

   O’ Innocent or knowing
    Insect, do you know the Way?
    We are lost and gone astray,
    O' Lord, if only I were one
    I would just creep and crawl
nor scream nor moan nor  be forlorn 
 But of the flower will think,
 and smile and smile and pray,
 till the end, every day.

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