for a short while we sit and watch the sea
the ships that pass the people on the shore
and then turn back to what we were before

there's understanding here of what must be
a straightforward accounting of the score
for a short while we sit and watch the sea

smile at the world knowing that we agree
on the good things that no one could want more
than such warm moments till the final door
for a short while we sit and watch the sea

this empty form with simple sound
is filled echoes amplify the space
they occupy but lack  the grace

to be both honest and profound
as keepers of spirit and pace
this empty form with simple sound

becomes the whole complete and round
that we desire more than the chase
of life itself marked on each face
this empty form with simple sound

what's given forth may come out true
we lose at first just so we learn
the complex tricks and in our turn

teach each young one to pay their due
expend a little and discern
what's given forth may come out true

each change will mean the world made new
by other hands and thus we yearn
to see the old fires once more burn
what's given forth may come out true

a story told  was measured once in lead
the words turned cold and grey with its hard weight
but in our age we value fear and dread

a single message on the page was spread
to give the people the plain meaning straight
a story told was measured once in lead

meanings held firm in each old reader's head
if not on paper we could see the date
but in our age we value fear and dread

above the meanings that were sent to bed
as the last call of copy came so late
a story told was measured once in lead

where pixels and electrons rule instead
no paradise nor  true human estate
for in our age we value fear and dread

up to the point where even we are led
to recognise the symbols on the plate
a story told was measured once in lead
but in our age we value fear and dread

today my thoughts are focused on the task
that is to come the duty that must be
not just for us but for what we agree
must lie behind the smile upon the mask
up we must get then while yet others bask
in remnant sunshine by the still-warm sea
no one is left upon a bended knee
to find a purpose you must simply ask
if scripture says a slave is due to serve
and must not raise his head above the rest
that's an obscenity and shall not stand
each has to get the honour they deserve
find out the hard way passage of the test
and win the garland with their own hard hand

we leave behind the warm and easy pace
in places where the past remains awake
in swamp and cornfield for the old gods' sake
while modern wisdom does not show its face
except at urgent need the hot embrace
of constant summer overcomes mistake
in the fast living of each pool and lake
with ways of showing that there is still grace
what we approach is not as bright or bold
the subdued pallor of the northern skies
cannot approach the deep december blue
that give us cheer is kind and is not cold
announces promise yet contains no lies
but expectation of a future due

crescent moon sharp upon the plate of sky
one hour before the lazy winter sun
signal that my long day is well begun
with clarity that shows the air is dry
and cold at this still moment no birds fly
while urgent humans have the need to run
up the dark street for health instead of fun
as if the end was one they could defy
out to the world we go each blessed day
to find our pain and reach another dark
of calm oblivion and short time of rest
all the time knowing that we've lost our way
been baffled and come short of the true mark
in our misunderstanding of the test