The winds thrashed
The restless waters
With poisonous rage.
I am like the winds
Venting my want on others
To help my mood.
Hoping they will hear my call
For love and compassion,
Hoping they will separate my wrath
From my true heart which hides behind.
Solar flame–oh that my works
Would be emblazoned such,
Eternal and beloved–
This perhaps would be a sign of my worth,
Unreadable from my lowly position
Among the worms.
The war of worlds for kingdoms and gold
A shrill echo against a sure death.
We die for want of more life.
Let us drink instead the cup beside us–
Our neighbor our spouse our child
Who, in sharing themselves, give us life always.
Ease their burdens now (always now)
And regret shall not have visitation
On your bed of worn out things