to resist such gods

the gods who made us seem to hate us all
they make our lives all misery and pain
we always have to stand up from the fall

all human power will sicken and appall
if two men kiss we will withhold the rain
the gods who made us seem to hate us all

we will chop down the stalks that stand too tall
converting into loss all of your gain
we always have to stand up from the fall

your ventures will all sail into a squall
and if you're lucky will come out again
the gods who made us seem to hate us all

the princess will be struck down at the ball
over the kingdom comes a noisome stain
we always have to stand up from the fall

we will not listen though you have to call
we make things difficult when they are plain
the gods who made us seem to hate us all
we always have to stand up from the fall

grasping at shadows

no saintly rule over plain human folk
we have been governed by such fools and liars
whose pleasant voices singing in their choirs
disguise the fact that we're under a yoke
we bend our necks and wait the killing stroke
watch useless bodies cast onto the byres
and lives destroyed out of old vain desires
our hopes were full but now we all are broke
there is a shadow over every leaf
all work seems fated to fade and decay
and all our efforts may have been in vain
but still we have to overcome our grief
renew our pledges and restore the way
and hope for some revival in the rain

a dance of life

 

moment of clear light
branches moving gently now
waiting for rainfall

time for calm and rest
clarity in the pallor
never more than peace

allow a small time
for all the good things we love
to work their magic

no tears and no blame
familiar ways passing
new worlds being born

beyond the barrier

 above the mountains where the wyverns hide
we watch fat clouds expand into the east
we do not wonder when we see each beast
rise from the crags and loud proclaim its pride
on unmapped oceans where sea-serpents ride
each sailor fears to attend the great feast
when every demon from chains is released
and enters places where weak humans bide
a sodden weather eases one great fear
that fiery dragons would with flame descend
seizing our sheep from hillside or from fold
we are not certain of the age or year
when light and legend would in wonder blend
and ancient mysteries again unfold
when once again nightwalkers are bold
and angry heroes have once more the care
of the defenceless and the folk who tend
the plains and valleys in both heat and cold
to keep them safe from all powers of the air
and from the goblin decent homes defend
while plotting all the while for dragon-gold
the dangers that we face of other kind
still have their origin in living mind