Mango Walk

of both the sun and the restraining night

of lack of motion and of urgent flight

the rule was terror on earth and in air

so all would tremble and not one would dare

give voice to fervour  truth is not so light

upon our shoulders nor is human might

so sorely lacking that all must despair

when we are banded there's an end to shock

while sorrow must retreat before clear hearts

and terrors be forgotten once again

when we reject the foolish as they mock

our hard-won knowledge and our certain arts

of patience that beat wisdom out of pain

to fill the spaces that fall in between

the known and human and the dark unseen

void that is home to dragon and to snake

that place of horror where the old gods wake

to force us all to say just what we mean

or else keep silence in that last unclean

home of our hopes there's no room for mistake

what we have found is that the ends are true

but all the roads that take us up deny

the honest vista that could salve the soul

permit clean breath or show one perfect clue

enough for even you to crush the lie

and so arrive at the long-wanted goal

so we are clear that in the winter sun

beneath the cloudless sky when all is cold

though all is bright our hearts are not consoled

by any knowledge the good times are done

while an uncertain epoch has begun

when the best folk are not doomed to be old

when crab his kingdom has now been foretold

so that the countdown clock is on its run

we seldom grieve the brightness of the day

until we see the stars in the night sky

and then declare the sunlight was too brief

for all we had to do or had to say

yet know the while that our words are a lie

to cover up a monumental grief

a different world with silver roughbarked trees

where stubborn beasts resist you on their knees

while walls and fences leave a proper trace

for those bewildered nature shows her face

in complicated motions that each sees

in the raw colours and the harsh decrees

that come upon us with the morning's grace

so this is recollection of the sight

from high above broad river as the grey

of false dawn marks the ending of the night

but here and now the moment cannot stay

we've paid hard cash for all that we have lost

and got no credit for the hills we've crossed

with all due art the silver from the dross

taking no notice of what's on the boss

nor even caring truth must have effect

while each must go as their own hearts direct

with grant of knowledge given in the gloss

by those who count the plus side as a loss

for what we had is gone naught will connect

into the afternoon the buzzards plunge

upon the corpse of wisdom is their feast

where all is ended save the scent of dung

here is a sight that nothing could expunge

when hope and virtue have together ceased

and only curses rise from every tongue

contains all our history bitter and sweet

different in mode but yet when we meet

fervour with passion the facts do not grate

no one can keep us from holding our state

at the due moment still glory is fleet

as moment of sunrise and never complete

as we all learn when we find out our fate

truth is the monster that howls in the gale

obscenely yelling the words we deny

yet when we reach the far end of the tale

we still prefer it to the soothing lie

since in the end all the remedies fail

and the last word all must say is goodbye

to take when day was joyous and so kind

that we were filled with blessings of good mind

but now few stars and every way is barred

vision is blurred and all the ground is charred

by wildest fire we have been left behind

by some harsh fate in this land of the blind

where all things good have been cut up and marred

there must be wisdom left for each to trace

the proper path to decent human sight

where everyone is worthy of their face

and every action leads each to the right

this is the hope to which we all must hold

that none can purchase though it lead to gold

interpreters of one more well-told tale

another weight that's added to the scale

of knowledge what wisdom comes unvexed

by normal suffering in the context

of work and study long before we ail

or fade into the dark with one last wail

that's the hard question leaving us perplexed

the act political we cannot doubt

must be for us the central urgent norm

for making easier the chance that curled

within the force that bids each one to shout

the truth and nature of the rising form

is the bright hope of an emergent world

and watch the clouds observe each changing shape

while looking upward with your mouth agape

allow the world to go by on the run

there are so many tasks that must be done

but not today there's time for one escape

from sordid duty take some rest and drape

your body on the bench just have some fun

soon you'll encounter the familiar task

hear the old words and even older lies

plunge back into the service of the known

to answer all the questions that they ask

hope to awaken light behind fresh eyes

and heal the causes of the longest groan

of music in the modulated touch

over the distance we have gained so much

crossing great waters at a single bound

while all the pains of the old hurt were drowned

and honour met  just one step past the clutch

of oldest terrors we learn truth is such

a mighty gift yet one we may expound

our hope for progress turns right back to shame

when out of darkness we find naught but force

to hold us back and keep us from our right

when what is needed is but one bright flame

to serve as guide to set us back on course

reminding hearts that not all is in night