Nightmares and ghost stories in abundance...
There’l be war, as never before
...and mother Gaia will dip on her poles
..andsomehow we'll enter dimensions unbeknowst
...restless and milling the flock, dogs barking and the jackal prowl
The greed of peoples? ? ? ? ?
And the fear about the chinees? ? ? ?
Who came to us, learned and mastered
...and bettered us
Resulting in a world full’a fear and short sight
..in a world where money of paper worth less...
..than thetree it came from to make it
So also the milled stone to make the ink....
Cause with the wood of the tree a fire could be
....and the rock the support for the stew pot
obamJefPta 012012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem