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Dawn comes with the ringing of a bell
How many will die today no one can tell.
Angels walk through the world of the living
But no one is heeding the warning they're giving.

Humanity sleeps in a shallow grave -
The lonely, the lost, the cowardly, the brave.
What is truth no one can tell?
The shadow of war has cast its spell.

Fires burn all night long
As murder sings its dreaded song
Time passes in the wounds of the world
How many armies are there with their flags unfurled?

How so this human violence?
Hear the screams break the silence.
How so this terror and madness?
How so this horror and sadness?

The homes of the innocent burn
As the midnight wheels of power continue to turn
No one has an easy answer
Perhaps, it's true, Shiva is the cosmic dancer.

But in a lonely outpost upon the fringe
Scarred hands beat upon a drum
And sound out their message:
Have faith... Have faith... Peace will come... Peace will come...

Dear Bernard ~

It's SO good to see you here, again, even though you move amongst the shadows of your poem. You sure describe for me the way the world is today. Whose scarred hands are those? Are they yours? Perhaps, Adams's? I'd love to pick up a drum myself and join in your mantra; however, I'm still observing and asking the questions. I'm not sure if I mentioned, somewhere here, having seen "Apocalypto" the other night ~ maybe I started and then had to leave before I clicked Submit.

The relentless violence and horror of 'primitive' man's inhumanity to man for purposes of power and control was bloodily everywhere. As I watched, with a measure of disbelief as to what they did to each other... absolutely cruel and horrific stuff... the thought almost immediately followed that this 'very' [shift the details to the left or the right, doesn't matter] same stuff goes on daily around the world... Iraq, Darfur, and we're still just as primitive regarding the value of life and everyone's integral right to exist in this world.

The reports keep coming, the tolls mount, and families are impacted on their side of the world and ours. The end is... where? You're so right that the shadow of war has cast its spell.

It's good to see you, Bernard. It looks like you may have come in from your lonely outpost to let us know you're doing okay.


Love,
Lizzy