As The Ages Speak...I was staring a 19th century Navaho poet in the words this afternoon,
Then surfing Neruda's private seas en ingles y espanol,
Hearing the call to love the Earth with the bonds of stewardship,
A duty simply laid upon man and forgotten in conveniently complex fashion,
The albatross of sanity was flying jigs as I looked beneath a carpet of customs.
Legends and Genesis from three continents cry as the butterflies pass by,
Multicolored threads woven through a fabric of life once lush and rich,
Lunatic shears born in five fingered hands sever such yarn as they may find,
Convinced of dominion yet holding no understanding of the shape of that mountain,
Blindly following the blind searching for a candle already laid at their feet out of sight.
No host need come down nor Almighty lift a finger,
Walking the highway to Hell is all down hill from here,
Girded by entrenched walls of silence and fear,
We were given a job and our fears have hands in the small of our backs,
As we lie down and the clocks tick by a Revelation nears our door and it is Us,
Stagnated in the walls of tradition and habit and who do you know deals,
Speaking of ideals in nonchalant splendor and failing to live His word or our own,
What we speak and live is what defines us and our fate.
The time of Tribulations is rooted in a simple failure of vision, social compact, and too-glued traditions -
All God has to do is sit back and watch; all we have to do is Steward the Earth and each other,
As the ages speak of Tribulations come and gone only now we can do it bigger and bolder,
Such is the nature of duopoly consisting of duty and free will.
By: Daniel A. Stafford