snagged on wheat stalks, no
shoes, a sheet of hair in the sun
everybody can hear me and no
one can hear me, crashing through
the tall grass on a wolf trail, slapped
by ears of corn, the tall grass relents
against me





shush, shush, shush,






but my feet
have never left the ground and the
durum sticks to my sweat, out here
in the wilderness.

You come around
And make me feel,
Like I don't want to feel,
As if the only way is your way,
What am I to think?  How can I heal?
Are all majestic colours impishly yours?
I walk alone on glare streets of harsh silence,
In rushing crowds of coldness, darkest and deep
Loneliness, you have made mourn of sun
My punisher, you have stolen music
Out from under my fumble hands,
Your eyes are like confusion,
My heart has nil defense,
I wait for you to let me go,
My hopeless prayer,
But I am undone
No, I never will
Be known, nor
Your only
One.

Those perilous times
with union aflame..
save or destruct
these choices invite
a fateful game..
war introduced
and the war came..
what would emerge
from chaos unleashed
was new reflection..
naming the offense
to higher dimension..
war must now
prove its worth
promise to continue
finish that work..
those ancient partners
chaos and order
created together
a nation's re-birth...