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From a fast to a feast that direction, at least; But has opposition increased? Don't think the pendulum's ceased Does the rift widen 'fore it snaps shut On trapped gap, or healed heart How can it survive there being itself, yet aware of where danger lurks and that Mother's care gently stroking your hair which weaves the strands from Her to Him thru the valley of hurts and unfelt fears and uncried tears They build the Holy Bridge which up to now's a holy war, a jihad of death, can't count the score O, this unholy light still burning bright unredeemed, still blinds the sight, The scourge and scurvy of this world and any other, whilst on the loose like some runaway caboose careening down a slippery slope We need for Him to throw a rope so She can grab it, end the hope of denied God's love of willess stillness still stuck in stodgy stunted stoppedness at the start of conscious choice where choicelessness was chosen as the best way to be And the chance for a dance with lusty life of everlasting love evolving in spiral revolution, left unexamined, in exchange for the unchecked zoom... but without the room She might create He didn't trust that fate So now, we're left with a spate of spooked spirits spitting while, in safety, some are sitting contemplating gratitude in some semblance of listless lassitude following the feast Afghanistan's fallow sandy barren lands look alien to harvest hands Feel for the fall of the bombs "in here" as "over there"... for the fear in the fallout must needs be felt for the freedom foretold to fruit and beHome the Heart who holds the help to join the hands of She & He, and we, the hapless, helpless herds, to end the war with final score a tie. Kiss your sister Hug your mister Tears of joy Let's cry. copyright 1997-2002 Panjoyah |