some sort of vision

[fledgist]

 no thought of loss just so much heavy grey

thickness of smoke  unfolding on the ground

removing colour flattening all sound

and yet we can note little of the day

too warm we think but yet no time for play

all wait to hear a message more profound

but all who speak seem narrow closely bound

by weighty powers all have lost the way

instead of music we have flighty speech

to serve as background for the journey out

beyond the doors to where all roads must start

each of us pledged to do our best to reach

the highest goal and by the human art

we know the best to overcome all doubt