The laws of blood


In the dawn it was a dream

Why did they hate it,

Why did they warn repeatedly of it

Why did they twist it

Why did they let it go


In the morning it was a plaything

To be viewed from the angles of happenstance

To be directed in the best directions

To be feared as a wrong making

To be distant and really unknown


At noon it was another nightmare

Small compared to the darkness everywhere

Made plain by the gift of life

and the absence

of sensibility


In the afternoon it was a normal worry

One of those things that are a very small part of the job

More important then, the daily failures

The small successes

and the striving to make something eventually, in it all


In the evening it was all around

Laughed at with wisdom

Done right with on the road

Dealt with with sympathy

and no effect


Come night it will be over

and what is it we may yet know

The hopes of light and glory

A gift from what we would have been

or maybe just a no show


<I would prefer to be the man who walked away with a laugh, after the play was over.>




October 1998