he sings and he jokes,
he laughs and he cries,
and all as smart as a mule,

he yells and he whispers,
he spits and he pleads,
to even those who rule,

hes a poet and artist,
an actor and a geneus,
but what manner of man is this,
that in all languages we call a fool.

Walking in the cleansing rain
Washing all the ***** pain

Breathing in the crisp night air
Curing all the worldly care

Smelling midnight watery flower
Embracing all the ****** power

Watching lightening crack the sky
Losing the feeling I will die

When sun shines upon beaded grass,
Do not close your eyes.

When rain washes away the ugly dirt,
Do not zip your jacket.

When leaves color and fall to the earth,
Do not mourn the forlorn tree,
For it will awaken,
In spring.

To live.

Pray not to your God of Love,
For her blade,
Too easily stayed,
Is slow more often than not.

Pray not to your God of War,
For his hate,
Not easy to sate,
Robs him of all thought.

Pray not to your God of Beauty,
For her face so fair,
her only real care,
Makes her blind to all but a mirror.

Pray not to your God’s of Moon and Sun,
For their dance,
Caught in eternal trance,
Sees not the problems below.

No, pray not to your God’s,
For they retain,
None but in their domain,
And care not for anyone other.
So pay no heed,
To what you see as their need,
And hope they forgive your action.