Origin Song

Nothing grew on the land.

The surface was a mound of rocks
and beneath the soil
there was ash,

the remains of a thousand years
of lightning-scarred vegetation.

There was no life there,
anymore.  Nothing the eye could see.

The wind would roll
and its whispers could be heard
if the ear was inclined to listen.

The sound was the sound of
a timeless song,
long forgotten,

but never silenced.

A tune which all people
had once known, but
had forgotten with time
and the change that comes with it.

Change for this and
change for that.

Everything changes, but
the sound remains,
always the same, always the same.

Nothing grew in this barren place,
but the song from which
all was sprung could still be heard

by those who inclined
an ear to listen.


The Fruits Of Silence

Although I sometimes long
for the solitude I once kept,
those hours I spent in
my own company,
keeping watch in contemplative
silence over the coming
and going of my own thoughts
have born fruit
I can’t keep only for myself.

Looking For An Honest Man

When I shine my lantern
around the crowded streets,
looking for an honest man
and not finding one,

I ask myself why
has truth been surpassed
by lies,

why has genuine nature
been replaced by
hunger and guilding?

I shine my lantern
on every veneer
of a person

and then turn the light
on my own glossy surface,
reflecting everything,
but not allowing the light I shine
to penetrate any deeper.