Winds Of Time Poem by Peter Olsson

IN WINDS OF TIME:

Windbags Prevail


America has many forms of self-deception.

Grandiose schemes and dreams abound…

Many offered or foisted, ‘for our own good’?

Denial, an ever present protective cocoon.

Truth so poorly tolerated, is an underdog.

The faint and quiet voice called Reason, a

weary whisper in roaring winds of rhetoric.

Will the children of Future’s heart be heard?

As their parents seem blind again to truth, and

sad humanity stays covered with war blood…

Mankind’s prayers and sincere longings might,

Re-kindle the hope for God’s smile’s warmth,

as men search and grasp for Grace in the dust.

Re-kindle the hope for God’s smile’s warmth,

as men search and grasp for Grace in the dust.