To the Glory of God
To Gwyneth with Love
There’s more than one way we return to our early days
Our submission is one
Our irrelevant anger; the grey that comes from destruction
The murder that comes from the past;
Untreatable, uncommunicated pain is anther
I’ve heaved with tears
Some will tell people the resurrection has come and gone,
All environmental concerns are irrelevant
Then it all changes back to our responsibilities
I’ll walk the streets alone again
I’ll know so clearly and distinctly the pain of crying in a crib
I can’t be coddled to grow up
As I walk the streets alone again
And tears of joy with guns so innocent
Where I found the strength so long ago
Lobbed into the birth of war
The river began to spring and pleasure or pain can’t be judged
Where I hold onto eternity
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