The sun in morning haze diffused
A bright soft blanket o'er the meadow
To float and cloak what was misused,
The dead and dying in the shadows.
This meadow in God's placid gaze
Where yesterday there laid two lovers,
Before the devil set ablaze
What this mourning blanket covers.
We are the children of all time
We are the parents of tomorrow;
The bells in distant steeples chime
And wring with tears and drip with sorrow.
Yet still with hatred in our hearts,
Within, a future battle starts.
April 19, 2013 Unfortunately our fields and meadows and cities are battlefields