Guising

Our imagination enlivened
A dream state in regard
The rural nature of our lives
Captured by a bard
Who puts his pen to paper
Who lends his ears to hear
Who watches all the dancing
And knows now just how clear

It is to see their costumes
Tattered rags that drape
Sewn in different layers
The shaggy kind of cape
An animal earthling coming closer
On a misty plain
The spiritual dimension
Over and over again

Honouring the vanquished
The hunted and the lost
The archaic bridge to the Summer Land
Which sadly has now cost
Us all a lot of heart ache
Humility we need
Empathy for all the souls
Who are hung up to bleed

Out their life’s blood streaming
And with it all their thought
All their precious memories
That in their cells were caught
The thrust that tears the trachea
And reaps the life force and
Sees the body languid but fails
To understand

The last dance of the dying
The last spurt of their blood
As they are torn a’sunder
Surely as a flood
Our tears are ours forever
The memories you have gone
If only they could see us
When their sweet skin we don