I'm. lost !
This vast expanse of emptiness that surrounds me .
I. Kid you not ,
for the way I came was easy ,
and in the slightest moment you were gone .
The dancing girls  with their waves and curls ,
and the minstrel band that played ,
to hapless tunes and wild perfumes. that captured my heart ,
Yet like Japanise Knot **** wormed and took root ,  
bound my heart with chains ,
with a thud  left crippled and dying ,
Fell into this pit of hades that surrounds me .

How the wolf cub howls ,
Howls into the night ,
Into the North ,
Where the she wolf instinct calls .
The mother finds its cub again ,
after searching day and night .

Yet the bell tolls not only for the dying ,
but for those who walk with dancing girls ,
and for those who have given up trŷing .

How stupid am I to let time pass by and not care for those around me ?
For the past has gone ,
and time moves on in the egg glass timer that surrounds me .
For a change of heart ,
Is the greater part and its this that must bind me ,
and with Gods good grace ,
To seek his face
Not to be dammed by those
around me .

My dear friend ,
Let me leave you with the concept of nothing .
No thoughts ,
adjectives , vowels or nouns .
Nothing .
Not a white sheet of paper ,
Just the endless ticking of a clock ,
tick tick .
Then you might begin to understand
The master of what is real ?
For out of nothing comes thought ,
Pictures in your mind .
Then and only then can you start to write .

A bird claws at my window Paine , it's midnight , and squawks for half an hour .
Now the birds in your room ,
You chasten it with a broom to which there is no ending .
But what if there is no room ?
And why is there something rather than nothing ?

Then what if that something was God ?
That entity that like th a poet could bring things to life ?
His word might become flesh ,
So light might overcome the dark .
Then the sun like a bridegroom might rise and in the evening tide set .
Eight hundred and sixty four thousand miles wide ,
Fifteen million Celsius of heat .
Gods champions league ,
his Gold cup .
Earth his paradise .
Like a child leaves his socks on the floor ,
My child's been here before ,
Yet our perverse minds can't see , God s. beauty and majesty .

Blind fold we walk into the night ,
with only selfish thoughts to please ,
Like cowards we shrivel and die ,
and evil a ghost of the light .
Bound it must take flight.
Then pride and greed our selfish need are mounted on stallions of which no man canst tame .
What if a crimson light ,
from a cross of wood speaks like a whisper to a beating heart ?

For the lives of the wicked are but empty ,
And in doing right we suffer long ,
In contemplation of things eternal ,
Is reward in Gods heaven above .

We beat our ******* how rightchous am I ,
God look down on me a sinner .
X

The Crow suddenly turned its head ,
Flapped its wings ,
and I followed it to the heavens .
Where like a traveller in time ,
Gases  ,
Gravity , and
Time ,
Eight billion degrees of energy , time and space .
Trillions of years amassed .
The great I Am
hangs his baubles in the heavens ,
His tinsel in the sky's .
His most dazzling  star ,
Perched on top of his Christmas tree .
His cherry on his cake ,
Above oh little , insignificant ,
Back street town of Bethlehem .
There will be no Palace for this Prince of peace ,
this once fetus ,
perfect d n a. ,
Gods new Adam ,
Who once touched the tree .
This new life ,
God ,
The great I Am .
Spewing child ,
Born in a slum ,
Cradle of the Universe ,
Worship him .

From the East they came ,
Gold for a King ,
Frankensense of milk white resin ,
and Myrrh oh sweet resin of death .

Greccio 1223
St Francis of Assisi
Found detestable Greccio s. Fancy feasts and drunken ways .
This feast of Christ had become a farce .
With Manger Ox and *** ,
as midnight bell did sound ,
They gathered in the forest ,
and with Psalms of Joy did sing ,
With praise to their King .,
Who conqured
death
and assended on high ,
For whoever will believe on him shall never die .
With lanterns lit oh glorious sound ,
A babe was seen on this hallowed ground .

Oh dove at Christs baptism ,
Oh star above from where he layed ,
Oh holy night ,
Say to the towns of Judah
Here is your God .

A Farmer placed a cross of wood for his beloved friend ,
In a field of snow to mark the grave for where he lay ,
a sodden block of wood .
A Crow perched for a little while on that Cross he layed ,
his only friend layed to rest in a cold dark thank less grave .
His feet frozen in the snow ,  
no one for him to talk to ,
Just a field of empty snow. .
A cross of wood before him ,
one Cross sunk in this bitter field ,
and a few penny's to his name
Now to tell a tale of woe and self belief ,
this genr who now layes beneath a slab was hungry for some meat .
To feed his daughter and his wife to London Docks did go ,
and when those gate were open wide a thousand men burst forth ,
only to lose his footing and so ,
down he went, with no air for man to breath , into the ground  did go..
Gave up  his life to sacrifice for his wife and for his daughter .

The Farmer picked up his sack that he had carried with him , full of
Food , poltary bread and cheese , and left it for outside the
doors of every slum that night .
To lay down our lives so our friends may live would be the least a man could do .
To give ones life at Christmas time so this bread could satisfy your soul .

Hush Mummy and Daddy creep up the stairs   ,
Hush don't awake the kids ,
With silver bows next to their children's toes ,
Back from midnight mass ,
On this sacred holy night ,
dressed in red ,
With a hood over their head ,
awaited for dawn on this blessed morn ,
With jingle bells ,
and cuddles .
And a feast fit for a King .


The crow with sacred book now turned to a holy man of times long past ,
the book of Zechariah .
Come to me Jeruslem ,
Gods people on earth unite ,
One Holy mountain will split on Christs return ,
East and to the West .
Like a theif in the night .
No shrine ,
No catacomb,
No rotting corpse ,
To  bow low ,
But a Risen Christ. ,
On Holy mountain ,
One King over all the earth .
The crow left the Church which door had been left ajar ,

For later that night the Farmer would. Gaze on a cross  in a Church where carols sang ,
Sang from hungry souls that Christmas night was the heart of every man ,
In thankful praise their God filled days  that Christ did come to save this earth
From this sinful  soul on man

A Crow landed  in a field of snow ,
Only for a moment ,
Lay a golden ball behind it .
It's. Sun lit Ray's cast its light on this field of snow ,
With only an trees of Oak to hide it .

Jingle Bells  a **** Santa sells in shops all set for Christmas ,
With halo lights and tinsel ,
With too much beer ,
hell. draws near ,
and the tinsel town with its bright pritty lights ,
Sees. Sirens and sick men spewing in a gutter.

A winters blast of times long past ,
In Ashfords streets. Rattling cans ,
and Street grinders. , Santa Claws and slay.
pray happy tunes for weary souls
on a cold winters day .


Yet in 1898 the Americans mined for Gold ,
The Chilkoot. trail ,
Or the White pass ,
Ones hell ,
the others destruction .,

Which ever which way you'll  wish you took the other .
Men's dreams of paradise would perish in the snow

Now a Cross of Roman wood outside a City gate for the Son of man did wait ,
Where blood trickled down from a thorny Crown ,
Unto Goblets made for thankful souls ,
for mans sin would be dealt with in just one day ,
To appease Gods holy wrath .

At dockers gate a man did wait and was crushed for want of bread ,
For God so loved ,
his only Son ,
to die on Roman wood .
For what hell could not hold ,
Paradise would enfold ,
Fountains of grace for many .,
Who turn from their sin ,
and trust in him.
For the Sun will rise on golden fields of green ,
and harvest souls where Crows once fed on soil fit for a King .
.

" How far the crow flys they say .
I watched intently as the crow suddenly took flight ,
above dense grey clouds it flew ,
far above chimney tops ,
and the smoke that billowed out heating comfy homes ,
and little boys and girls dreaming of Christmas toys from Santa .
Where air was thin ,
Somewhere between heaven and earth !
Where night and day , sun and moon ,
and rain ,
are somehow forgotten .
The crow landed on a branch ,
below a most beautiful garden .
Streams of living water gave life to its plants ,
Where no **** could be found .
No rain ,
No Sun ,
No moon by night .
Something more splendid ,
Holy ,
Walked this place .
Why have you brought me here I cryed ?
What right do I have to stand in this place ?
I. Was born ,
Not of love ,
But of lust .
Hated by my Father ,
Left for dead by my Mother ,
Dragged up from the gutter ,
Bread and cheese .
Yet my Woman and daughter I loved ,
Begged , and tramped for bread to feed their pritty heads .
Crushed to death ,
With no grave to rest my head .

Then I saw a naked man reach up to grab some fruit ,
Without a thought he took a bite ,
and a sneering snake took root .
'" Where are you what have you done ? "
I heard a voice did say
My bird took flight from paradise ,
I watched it fly away .
Far above the starry night ,
above where angels sing
and lead to far greater things
Than I could ever dream .

My eyes  sore from the teaming rain that Bucketed down ,
drenching my cloaths and skin , yet became transfixed
On a crow busy plucking parasites from a stags backside ,
It was early ,
the Sun had just risen  , and a frost still clung to the shrubs chilling by bones as I stood
there alone for what seemed like an eternity .

For a week we lived like Kings on bread and cheese and beautiful things my wife , daughter and I
With fabric to mend , wash and sow ,
how the work came in .
A good fire at night that kept us warm ,
a few shillings for lodging ,
a roof over our heads ,
Curled up in our beds ,
Warm and fed .
Then skin and bone ,
as winter called ,
and hale and gale ,
and famine .

No bread ,
to feed our famished souls ,
On chicken feed ,
my daughter fed ,
From the baker I begged,
Swollen stumucks ,  
Frozen nights , cast out .for a penny of gold
A bed in a slum ,
a new days begun ,
To ***** the streets ,
from dawn to dusk ,
Looked Down by the well to do ,
afraid to buckle my shoe .
I walked for days  .
Then down to the Docks where hundreds flocked ,
Crammed in like cattle .
If death has no power over love , then why do I stand here , alone , in the freezing cold.
With no room to breath , or turn ,
no air to fill my lungs ,
a mass of bodies ,
Thousands of men ,
a surge of bodies behind me ,
I slipped and fell ,
Now here I stand with deer and crow before me

When word and deed is done , then cometh the truth .
Bread of life for common man the Son of God did say ,
Now tomorrow morn , before the great White throne ,
I must plead my case .
For where my sinful soul once trod a good Shepherd kept his flock ,
To pay before a holy God .
A red deer to be culled for Christmas .

My Crow took flight once more. and as
The sun rises and sets ,
What is new under the sun ,
but a Holy God before me .