Where the field is bare
where the seed is sowed
down by the river
out beside the road
where the people walk
where the people pray
the lion stalks the lamb
watching the children play-
While the autumn hills
turn to red
I see the little leaves
falling to their death
I lay there too
upon the fading grass
watching, as the
vultures pass
I ponder where next
they are bound
for I feel the evil
all around-
I hear a cold
train whistle blow
coming from somewhere
down below
carrying the children
to their graves...
all those we couldn't learn
how to save-
This land has turned
toward the fall...
it's getting colder
while death holds us against the wall
we're going down
under the gun
riding into our own
setting sun-
One day
we may arise
One day
when no one else dies
One day
along the way
when we finally listen
to the words the prophets say
in a land where
all people freely walk and pray
where the lion lays in peace with the lamb
while watching the children play-
along the way
smoky, i was just looking for another poem of mine when i came across the one i titled, the world is also this. as i recall i wrote it as i considered the things in the world that could put me in a funk. -glen
i relate to what you say in your note, smoky. i find i have to limit my exposure to the news with so much of its focus on the negative, besides so much of it being speculation or downright trivial. there is always beauty in the world, and my time hitch-hiking around this country as a young man made me convinced most people are basically good. isaiah's words are definitely ones to hang on to. -glen
Wonderfully written Smoky. A reflection on our times perhaps.
Beautiful poem. Hope and prayer are always there to comfort when all else is lost. Thank you for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
and yet another poem of mine, smoky, i was just reminded of—when hitler ruled berlin. there's always beauty. sometimes we have to work harder to see and remember it. -glen