The healers
Diagnosed the wrong ailment,
They applied the wrong medications,
They insist
On applying the wrong medications,
Their hailers hailed.
The patient relapsed into coma,
Loud murmurs in the land,
Silence,
Silence of the graveyard.
The healers strut,
Pretending to heal,
Their hailers hailed.
The loud murmurs prepare
To erupt into a revolt,
A bloody revolt,
A bloodbath.
The haughty healers
Strut
Pretending to heal,
The patient remains in coma,
Their hailers still hailing.
Dark clouds
Gather over our land
Like Damocle's sword,
Threatening to slay
The guilty and the innocent.
The healers still strut
Pretending to heal,
The patient remains in coma,
Their hailers are still healing.
Celebration is our nature
A distinction of pleasure
Activities of leisure
In a full count of measure.
Everybody is celebrating
With nobody distracting
For everyone is understanding
So no one is obstructing.
Gathered in the neighbourhood
with a true spirit of brotherhood
In tune with our adulthood
Memories of our childhood.
In our way our brother's keepers
In no way our brother's killers
In time of joy the hailers
In time of sorrow the wailers.
Togetherness our culture
In oneness our structure
Fabrique of our love won't puncture
The goodness of life shall we capture.
Soft-gray clouds lessening over hard-grey sea,
Partly pulled apart into pink and orange,
Slowly separating into peach and gold,
Lovelier than a May dawn's heart can be,
Above, and on the sea. Oh,
And the swell of the sea;
And the free-way-sailing open cries
Of the white-winged hailers of the waking skies,
Soaring around in felt-tipped height,
Around, dip, around, up, and far out wide around,
Till over the downs and down to the beach.
Not here, but there, is the feast I reach,
Back from the shore, through the grass and the flowers,
On a white table on a white-railed porch----
The shell that you found this last half hour,
Raised, smelled, looked at so curiously,
As if Pure Secret were therein bound.
And no, you did not listen, as others do,
But stood just still, a real picture of pausing sound.
Then smiling, you walked proudly away with your own thought.
I ask it not, only look at the shell
And smile, glad that it lay so well.
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