there is a name

what we have seen is not what will be seen
towers are far distant and the city's great
right here we pause and meditate on green

this morning light makes all sweet and clean
work's to be done and so we clear the slate
what we have seen is not what will be seen

far from the see my thoughts are all marine
i'll take my pleasure even from the date
right here we pause and meditate on green

alive it seems to all that might have been
memory demands release from all its freight
what we have seen is not what will be seen

i'll take some comfort from the familiar scene
this place belongs to love rather than hate
right here we pause and meditate on green

the trunks of trees are cheerful grey and lean
i wonder now what tales they might relate
what we have seen is not what will be seen
right here we pause and meditate on green

too far the blue

the end comes faster than we could allow
for change and time are both of them divine
we toast the dead and drink for them the wine
each of us trapped by an ancestral vow
the past might hold us we're not certain how
the spirits that we saw have crossed the line
to come to earth to see how we refine
all of our customs into the deepest bow
nor when we've let the time turn into past
and all our yesterdays are now old dust
we let the strength that wanted to be ours
into the emptiness of lost hopes be cast
trapped in cold memory both joys and lust
and yet we bend our necks before the powers

critical analysis

getting it right means knowing what is wrong
the funhouse image tells us something true
we learn from things that first make us rue
all out of tune until we've learned the song
being weak's required to truly become strong
learning the old precedes learning the new
long rains must fall to make the rising dew
though answer may be terse the study is so long
affecting sights may come before our eyes
and still mean nothing to our half-dead hearts
all light that heals may not be too long seen
what in the end are stories but well-told lies
our thoughts and actions justify dark arts
and what we hope to make is what has been

Random books from my library

evening comes

outside the gentle waving of the green
brings tropic memories in time of strife
the trees have taken up their task in life
and peace is all the meaning of the scene