04-21-2014, 04:30 PM
sorry, here it is.
The Land of Nod
Once the parent mistook for God,
where our mothers before had trod,
little hands went reaching up
to find some solace there.
Yet no solace in this land,
which lacks for spirit thus is bland,
where soul and body have been parted,
and claim but desolation.
Reunite the tortured halves,
return the cow now to her calves,
then in the warmth of loving arms,
we will rest and sleep.
For the oft' divided land,
births the tiger not the lamb,
and harvest not the golden grain,
nor finds her consolation.
.
The Land of Nod
Once the parent mistook for God,
where our mothers before had trod,
little hands went reaching up
to find some solace there.
Yet no solace in this land,
which lacks for spirit thus is bland,
where soul and body have been parted,
and claim but desolation.
Reunite the tortured halves,
return the cow now to her calves,
then in the warmth of loving arms,
we will rest and sleep.
For the oft' divided land,
births the tiger not the lamb,
and harvest not the golden grain,
nor finds her consolation.
.
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.