Heros At The Helm

Sometimes I think this stuff is real.

These little trains of thought; the little engines that should, that could,

Could they only would they.

Quietly written; the sad loss of the nightingales of morning;

The voices of our children --swept away in this circus of the senses which casts no shadow of love.

Sigh and a chair; the aging warriors now weary and bloated in their battle dress.

Who will pick up their sword? For surely someone must.

Let it be them and not us. Let it be them

Not us. --I think this is what the leaders of the world are saying off camera.

This season; there are no banging of shoes in the gatherings of the United Nations of Planet Earth.

This season; many lands feel the cold steel irony of terrorism in its many forms.

The blunt proof of the terrorized; a bruised housewife next door --the child asleep in a burned out basement.

The honorable soldier shaking alone in the deserted sands of good and evil...

Such is the regurgitated irony of the terrorized becoming the very instrument of their own fear.

The tragedy of it all; fading in a parade of reality shows: benumbing us to our own sometimes unclean emotions.

It seemed impossible to coincidentally pile blunder upon this bloody art; Leaves don't fall that way.

But maybe; in a trick of the moon; It was an accident. At best a passing fog in the dreamers' eye.

Or, at the worst, misguided angels; drawing the heavy sword for their own.

No one needs to point wicked fingers at the wicked.

Someone needs to Mother this and make it all better.

Any song, foul or fair, is only a follower of the Pipers' State of Mind.

What we have here at this time in our civilization is a State of Mind that allows this reapers' tongue to sing.

Otherwise it would not sing: It would cease at the steeled disgust of peoples standing firm in common cause.

The sweetest of fruit bears a bitter seed; Democracy demands complacency.

So we learn to distance ourselves

From what is done in our name

From what is done in our spirit.

Shadow whispers all acts are justified by justice; In darkness comes the reply:

When there is War; Soldiers are heroes.

When there is a Just Peace; There is a Hero at the Helm.