Is it a matter of consequence or is it a game?
Is it conscience or does it have no name?
A life that is beginning or ending
effort and thought are wending their
way forward into a dimension occupied
with essence of being, breathing a
mind full of thoughts provoking a new
day that exists, here, for now.

Forming colours and patterns the soul
grows slowly and self-consciously,
treading softly a well-worn road
that leads to self and belief that
devisive thought of Hell.
The menace, a rapture which binds
a human physic into a world
traversing the galaxies of probing minds.

Politics and semantics caress a religion
fabricated by man and yet ...
grovelling upon the raw, warm soil
a human commits himself to the warmth
of an unseen being, creator of birth.
Fierce with anger and warmed by
a love so strong only they can feel it.
To be shared, yet held onto for that
feeling is so strong they dare not yield it.

Warring with crying until the banner's
held high. Each has a stance to die for
yet the Earth yells out as the carbon is
created and washed by the deaths before.
That molds the man who walks across its face
blending with a cold hard son that warms
and burns - devisive, destructive,
an engulfing, drowning intimidator.


So, we tarry along the journey
singing, praising, worshipping until
the cold blue light beckons us on to
form part of creation so bold that it will
crumble to ashes, with a spirit embedded in air.
Souls so strong, a force of nature, a part
of the universe. Warm, loving, giving - a creator
of life. We are Earth and Earth is mankind
- Traverse on.