When the daylight fades to night,
when the sounds of traffic cease;
when the moon's a slice of heaven,
that's when my soul's at peace.

When the stars cry out in silence
when the darkness hides the light;
when sweet slumber covers me,
then I sense the world's all right.

When your love forgives my sinning,
when your strength, it makes me weak;
when I praise your name in prayer,
that's the solace that I seek.

When the wonder of your name,
becomes my only choice;
in the quiet of the room,
I hear your precious voice.

When the blessings flow like water,
when your grace becomes my song;
then the pace of life is pleasure,
as the days of life are long.

1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.

The age demanded that we sing
And cut away our tongue.

The age demanded that we flow
And hammered in the ****.

The age demanded that we dance
And jammed us into iron pants.

And in the end the age was handed
The sort of **** that it demanded.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

We're just soaring on this earth.
Without course, a floating asteroid,
with no worth, it's our planet of birth.
Of meaning, all there is, is void.
Always wandering to some north,
pretending life of merit is not devoid.

I'm not writing full of depression,
it's just the same old realisation.
Don't wanna die, just a bit whatever,
waiting for a change in this monotony.
Tired of waking up, wish I'd sleep forever
or that something would entertain me.

dead bodies floating
in our oceans
from the Asian Pacific
to the Mediterranean

crumpled corpses lying
on our beaches
thousands drowned unknown

overcrowded detention centers
not unlike concentration camps
behind barbed wires
guarded by police and snarling dogs

nobody feels responsible

not  those who started wars
destroyed whole cities
made millions homeless
and into refugees

not those who take advantage
of the chaos for their own gain
abusing the names of their gods
or some ancient figurehead
to excuse their atrocities and greed

not those who live
in comfortable homes
and wish the desperate crowds
would just stay on the TV screen
and not come close

nor those who pretend
to be the guardians
of our great humanitarian heritage
but show no backbone
against nationalist fanatics

it is the shame of the world
to sit and talk and watch
and not do enough

those who turn away
the needy and homeless
could also
      quite suddenly
lose their homes

forced to rely
on the kindness of strangers

Morning breath of Winter upon the naked
Back of Autumn, as they lie side by
Side on the bed of ploughed fields
I admire.

Mist kissed and coloured by turned soil
The age of Earth herself.
I kick frozen, brown leaves from my boots
And look towards

The river.
It'll freeze up at the tips of its longest fingers
Soon, inviting children with ice skates and
Red cheeks to dance and laugh.

Winter turns his mouth towards his
Dying lover's face, and kisses her farewell.
Until next year, my auburn love.
Sleep until Summer's watch is over.

Up here, the seasons are so stark they form
Four shades of adventure.
A land so proudly unholy anyone can
Walk on water.