08 February 2007

inside there's sunshine

the broad river is a dark dark worm crawling
over the grey-green land under the heavy cloud
we want to be quiet but here all things are loud
we're warned to behave or be sent home bawling
the rain that's promised will so soon be falling
up here we run backs bent not yet so proud
as to refuse the sacks under which we're bowed
but far from here we'll find both place and calling
in the end we can't return there's no secure location
except in the heart and that will pall and fade
we'll face each pain for us there's no balm given
to soothe our bodies to warm us in our station
within each soul there's hope for help and aid
and to our separate makings we've been driven

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