Post by Craig on Jul 3, 2005 7:16:43 GMT -1
My friend sits with me on the train,
And looks confusedly all around,
At the faces worn with care and pain,
Like a spiritual lost and found.
Through my eyes she bites back tears,
As in each soul she sees the source,
Of all the loneliness and petty fears,
Lack of belief in the living force.
For the Awen flows in fits and starts,
Dammed by despair and channelled by hate,
They don't know what troubles their hearts,
They've lost the way to the forest gate.
They cannot see through tear-frosted glass,
Life flashing past in man-made haste,
The sands of time are running fast,
And the truth they have not yet faced.
So my friend reaches out and touches some,
Turning thoughts to past loves and hopes,
To woodland walks in dappled sun,
And picnics held on grassy slopes.
Where childish dreams were not bound,
By adult cares and calls to reason,
Where understanding could yet be found,
That to each dream comes its season.
The jarring travail of the winter train,
Jolts them back to the world they've made,
Where dreams are lost to reason's reign,
And my friends touch does quickly fade.
So we walk on down the path,
Helping some to dream anew,
Losing more to reason's wrath,
Yet hope lies in that happy few.
So when you walk in reason's sway,
Carry her with you in your heart,
Feed the dreamers along your way,
Be strong, be happy and do her part.
And looks confusedly all around,
At the faces worn with care and pain,
Like a spiritual lost and found.
Through my eyes she bites back tears,
As in each soul she sees the source,
Of all the loneliness and petty fears,
Lack of belief in the living force.
For the Awen flows in fits and starts,
Dammed by despair and channelled by hate,
They don't know what troubles their hearts,
They've lost the way to the forest gate.
They cannot see through tear-frosted glass,
Life flashing past in man-made haste,
The sands of time are running fast,
And the truth they have not yet faced.
So my friend reaches out and touches some,
Turning thoughts to past loves and hopes,
To woodland walks in dappled sun,
And picnics held on grassy slopes.
Where childish dreams were not bound,
By adult cares and calls to reason,
Where understanding could yet be found,
That to each dream comes its season.
The jarring travail of the winter train,
Jolts them back to the world they've made,
Where dreams are lost to reason's reign,
And my friends touch does quickly fade.
So we walk on down the path,
Helping some to dream anew,
Losing more to reason's wrath,
Yet hope lies in that happy few.
So when you walk in reason's sway,
Carry her with you in your heart,
Feed the dreamers along your way,
Be strong, be happy and do her part.