august morning recalled

this is the day when we may bless the sun

no cloud can daunt us once we're through the night

for on this morning all our good is won

the long dark course of horror has been run

so now we have true clarity of sight

this is the day when we may bless the sun

not as our whip for that time is now done

but as an honest beneficent light

for on this morning all our good is won

we must make real the tales that once we spun

around the fire to keep our spirits bright

this is the day when we may bless the sun

for now there is no fear of lance or gun

since we may dance in our masters' despite

for on this morning all our good is won

service to past and future we won't shun

nor ever drop from memory the long fight

this is the day when we may bless the sun

for on this morning all our good is won

right after rain

the deepest silence comes right after rain

just before nightfall when the milky light

seems full of portents while your straining sight

catches some glimpse of homing bird seen plain

at the right moment when the skies attain

that perfect colour fading fast from bright

just north of where begins the rule of night

to make us sigh now that is what we gain

here in the kingdom where no fools may rule

there is contentment earned at a high cost

by those of us who know not what we pay

nor understand the lessons of this school

until we find the gifts we thought long lost

and on a sudden learn we're on the way

a piece of work

our choices leave us little room to spare

as day and night in sequence go by fast

no decent case of dignity to wear

and vision that suggests more cause to fear

in the cold present than in the dim past

our choices leave us little room to spare

for reprehension at the sullen year

that it has been the truth is all miscast

no decent case of dignity to wear

we're  all frustrated all thrown in despair

all fearful we will hear the final blast

our choices leave us little room to spare

for any of the goods that we should bear

since our great goal will never be surpassed

no decent case of dignity to wear

when we confront the enemy or dare

the final gate that victory's the last

our choices leave us little room to spare

no decent case of dignity to wear

not all is night

there is some magic in the changing sound

of music in the modulated touch

over the distance we have gained so much

crossing great waters at a single bound

while all the pains of the old hurt were drowned

and honour met  just one step past the clutch

of oldest terrors we learn truth is such

a mighty gift yet one we may expound

our hope for progress turns right back to shame

when out of darkness we find naught but force

to hold us back and keep us from our right

when what is needed is but one bright flame

to serve as guide to set us back on course

reminding hearts that not all is in night

the prize we seek

the choices that we make are most constrained

by all the history we do not know

the pain of truth and life that is not slow

but constant motion towards what was gained

by long ancestral struggle we attained

some measure of the fair but the true flow

of justice and of freedom will not grow

just from our acts much else must be ordained

no victory is final that we learn

from childhood on and every hill we reach

turns out to be just one below the peak

so we clomp upwards while the seasons burn

still wondering just what it is we teach

and what exactly is the prize we seek

no echo from the outer range

where there's no echo from the outer range

of what was said before we turned for home

about the meanings both of choice and change

and what it means when we begin to roam

beyond the bounds of our accepted world

to those domains now hidden in the dark

where our free banners may at last unfurled

be flown above our heads as the great mark

of where we stand and what we mean to hold

upon the heights the point of what we do

when we have moved from warmth into the cold

and made our old place into something new

the truth of this is said without alarm

but your reply is what must give it charm

for coming rain

no matter what there's no reason to shout

with joy or anger since the rules are neat

and clear not heavy in this summer heat

we have no reason now for fear or doubt

just worry at the thought of coming drought

and utter silence in the noontime street

while on the air so many voices bleat

but none can tell us what it is about

upon the ground a shadow and a sign

of what the times have shown and what they mean

to those who read the signals straight and plain

yet we are waiting since the shades align

to form a boundary just past the seen

where those inside may sigh for coming rain

nature and nature's laws

there is no magic that can outpace wit

nor any spell to outdo normal pluck

still in the end we all are in the shit

you might expect things would ease up a bit

but what you find is that your feet are stuck

there is no magic that can outpace wit

but not a single line of yours will hit

just where you want so you are out of luck

still in the end we all are in the shit

not one of us is ever quite legit

as all our best hopes end up in the muck

there is no magic that can outpace wit

we get a win our thoughts begin to flit

towards good chance if things don't go amuck

still in the end we all are in the shit

no matter what we do despite our grit

the laws of nature just don't give a fuck

there is no magic that can outpace wit

still in the end we all are in the shit

the correct posture

no echo here just quiet and the bright

lamp of midday that flattens all below

with gentle touch that equals massive blow

and makes us all long for the cool of night

there's not a bird  today seeking the height

the strongest beast is hiding from the glow

this day at least we wish to see the snow

soften the edges of this harshest sight

mind cannot waken to the meanest task

nor is there thought of music for the charge

when distance adds so much to every fear

it magnifies the words that each must ask

making the burdens that were small so large

but yet each basket when we look holds air