Monday 25 June 2012

Lock the River, don't look at it

The Saint, he came on my face,
angry we was shouting,
he says,
where is your head,
is your mind in place?
he frowns,
"see what have you done to my space
I used to pour holy water"


The Dog, he stared at me hard,
confused he looked,
he barks,
such his sound it rang in my ears,
why are you here man,
he growls,
"see what have you done to my space
I used to pour holy water"

The Shepherd, he didn't care,
had company a flock or goats and hare,
silence says,
the river and leaves they whistle,
I check my heart,
find it above my tummy,
sighs in relief, but he managed
to say,
"see what have you done to my space
I used to pour holy water"

I came, I think it being a dream,
having soul perhaps,
emptiness screams with sound of my teacher,
my father, my ancients,
which soothed it all,
my dream, tole me again,
"see what have you done to my space
I used to pour holy water"

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