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.>
Saul,
October 1998