Mango Walk

where choices made do not entail regret

but only wistfulness that we have set

our hopes too high as swiftly-coming night

will end the journey still in our despite

there's magic against which we may not bet

so each must laugh while all the foolish fret

for there's still someone who can make all right

not for us here the option to renew

all the old answers that no longer serve

to cover up what must now be made plain

those monstrous forms that we refuse to view

or the old houses just around the curve

where we used to take shelter from the rain

we mean to go one just as we began

to measure all the world within one eye

so that this magic will not make you cry

allow each of us to fulfill the plan

now tell me that this moment is no lie

since you have gained the trust and will not cry

for any reason there's a way to span

to measure all the world within one eye

we have been gifted with this will to try

for other countries where there is no ban

now tell me that this moment is no lie

that honour rises in the summer sky

with all the goodliness that we may scan

to measure all the world within one eye

in order that each heart may learn to fly

beyond the places where our feet first ran

now tell me that this moment is no lie

to measure all the world within one eye

not in light drizzle but a heavy pour

that catches us straightway we leave the door

yet we're back with no reason once again

to find our way through torrents to the plain

it seems too much and yet we ask for more

as if this were a torment we adore

the price of pleasure being this hard strain

the thunder speaks and we dare not respond

since all our fears are centred in that sound

when it is echoed by each traitor heart

revealing that we won't refuse the bond

and most afraid that hope will not rebound

because our hands and minds have lost the art

all are now equal each of us may stand

glad in the knowledge that the lash is done

the times are over when we had to run

justice has entered where it once was banned

in the the bright morning under the free sun

a different type of journey has begun

when no one has the right of sole command

glad in the knowledge that the lash is done

we look around and see that we have won

so very much that all our words seem bland

in the bright morning under the free sun

what will become of us is known to none

but t we are ready and we understand

gland in the knowledge that the lash is done

and we have reached the point where everyone

must pause to sing then claim as theirs the land

in the bright morning under the free sun

glad in the knowledge that the lash is done

our hopes are limitless but not our skin

there are no victors ever at this dance

they told us this was the time to advance

that all the old faults had been cast in bin

we are not measured rightly by good chance

our wounds will never let us jump or prance

and when we are related we're not kin

there are no victors ever at this dance

since it's a game whose players can enhance

their virtues best by adding to the din

we are not measured rightly by good chance

nor yet permitted to take up a stance

above the fray our only hope is sin

there are no victors ever at this dance

but there are still fools who think it romance

and who believe that there's a prize to win

we are not measured rightly by good chance

there are no victors ever at this dance

of summer noontime seeking to escape

for just one moment from the normal shape

of discreet instance so that we might play

a different sort of role where one could say

the angry words to those with mouth agape

that tell apart the angel from the ape

but those are for another cooler day

instead we look to work a better will

in places where the choice is not so bright

as underneath the growing midday roar

of silver needles passing by the hill

each flashing clearly in the brilliant light

so bidding us to join with them and soar

up in dark corners waiting for new night

to lower herself and let the breathy might

that we call summer with its sudden leaps

of devastating beauty stay our sleeps

from each astonishment that seems so right

just when it happens then we turn that slight

degree of justice into one that weeps

we are not wrong to ask just what the time

must measure out for each unwanted child

who comes upon the wall and does pause

to beg for mercy nor to ring the chime

of those who think the tenor is too mild

but will uphold the harshest of our laws

the eye drawn outward to the furthest bound

where sense and vision come together drowned

in the immensity of that deep hue

where worlds and hopes are both slightly askew

some better wisdom is what we have found

where other souls in torment run aground

justice may grant an option to renew

no mind's enough to catch at all we need

for this long voyage through the middle air

though patience grants a chance to set all right

when each has found some soil to plant a seed

and seen it nurtured given proper care

allowed to shoot its blossom into light

the changing shades of meaning that reflect

not what is said but what we could reject

if well presented to our proper sight

but when we take as given in due right

and not as secrets of some hidden sect

they are the matters we have truly checked

and we are lost deep in the summer night

yet no one wonders at the altered state

nor at the clash of symbols that is seen

by those few waking through the starlit time

eager  to find a different sort of fate

but not to learn just what it ought to mean

nor yet the purpose of the long hard climb

a single bound will take you straightway there

it's our first homeland where we were born free

look where the master will not let you see

far past the fictive kingdoms of the air

the true republic lies beneath the sea

no effort's needed for each one to flee

just leave right now and be at ease from care

it's our first homeland where we were born free

where we learnt justice at our mother's knee

return' so easy we just have to dare

the true republic lies beneath the sea

not far at all we note the mango tree

the purple bloom the old man on his chair

it's our first homeland where we were born free

the place of order where we long to be

and it is simple to end the affair

the true republic lies beneath the sea

it's our first homeland where we were born free