Thus I Wrote

I move over shimmering waters,
I see my refection in the deep.
I create what I thought was good,
I sow what I thought I’d reap.
I hear a trumpet sound,
At dawn on a lonely hill.
I see a white bird flying south,
As a lion feeds on its kill.

I see a baby born,
All crying and bloody red.
With his mother’s hair matted,
As she sleeps in her lonely bed.
I dig deep in the earth,
All wet, sticky and black.
I am soaked by the rain,
But I will never turn back.

I see my love measured out,
Into fine, crystal glasses.
All handed out anxiously,
To the next person who passes.
I see my hands rise,
As the rain falls from the sky.
And the mud on my forearms shakes,
With every screaming cry….

I see the sun rise
And fall to the earth again
I see the leaves grow and die
In a forest that still remains
In the evening I await,
The white bird to fly
I’m in need of forgiveness,
And the peace it can buy.