Spring

A young boy stood on the Aventine hills And watched the future unfold in front of him He saw the industrialization of mankind Their souls powered by steam We have tasted the waters of a billion ecosystems The sound of bombs, sooths some child in Baghdad Survival and solitude Sacred lands full of stone He saw the European Renaissance The age of discovery The telescope expanding the borders of consciousness The restoration of humanity comes slow It moves and continues into the future landscapes not yet thought of, not yet built, not yet wakened by the thinking brain. He wants no more bloodshed No more repression Just the lush gardens that glisten under full moons And the clearness of ice If only he could remember the world how it was Full of vibrant chants And mystical monasteries with spiral staircases that reach out and touch the circumference of earth.