Friday 6 May 2022

And there was eve'ning, and there was morning, Day Eighth..

And there was eve'ning, and there was morning, Day Eighth..



My God, creative love, I'm glad, be-cause

your joy must be what's deeper than your grief,

for you persist, this dreaming world of yours,

and us as well. Well, that is my belief.


And thank you for the journey through this land.

But mostly it's the children of the god,

the baby gods who start to understand,

who work for what brings thriving, and for what


gives greater airplay to more life, and love,

who bring your rainbow colours to a day.

And when I meet them, sent here from above,

to intersect with this life - that's the way


you seem to like to do things. And me too!

For when I step out trusting you to do

your side of things, like keep the curtain blue,

the mythic sky above our heads to clue


us into life on Earth, but further too,

for ev'ry night you pull it back, and view

is then allowed both ways to mystery.

Sometimes it's in the dark I start to see.


Then in the day, I'm focussed here again

with stuff and folk around me in their pain,

and get a chance myself to choose as well:

an emiss'ry of heaven, or of hell.


"And there was eve-en-ing, and morning" too,

that made a day, they say, within this zoo.

My choice:- to slump to animal exist-

ence; or to be a keeper.          I enlist.




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