This world is a
walking place
surrounded by
a million faces
eyes that don't
recognize
your sighs,
hands that never
touch the shoulders
or the mind
That's the Glory of Love

Challenges everywhere
every failure and
success
spoken into darkened
hallways,
the music's playing
in another room
another house
another bed
That's the Glory of Love

When the body's in pain
the couch so hard
No position works
no encouraging words,
a purse or a nurse
they won't work
That's the Glory of Love

A tender touch
in a tender place
warmth and light
in this cold place
a moment of peace
when held so close,
a heartfelt giving
a heartfelt receiving
two hearts beating
singing
in perfect harmony
That's the Glory of Love.

we are stuck
in a compulsive
conundrum
of being
simultaneously
one thing
or the other
always at the
mercy of the
benefit of the doubt
matters are
nothing more
than fragments
left to our own
imaginations
in constant denial
of the power
that rests
on our hands
the panacea
to all mysteries
left hanging
and when
we finally
muster enough
courage
to open the
hypothetical box,
we only find
ourselves
inside it
undecided
simultaneously
living
and dying

The world had magic, once
But we drove it out
With our hate and our sorrow
And our pollution
And our new age machines
With our war and our strife
And our forgetting
Most of all, the forgetting

We forgot the hum of the earth
And the song of the wind
We forgot the language of trees
And the comfort of soil
We forgot to be kind to the world
And that drove out the magic
That kept us whole, and good

We are left now with rubble
And a grey, polluted sky
The trees do not whisper to us
Since we started cutting them down
The earth doesn't hum
With our oil swords plunged deep

We have forgotten our roots
And they, have so, forgotten us.