YELLOW DAYS

THERE WERE DAYS OF LAZING AROUND AND LYING IN THE PARK


OF LAUGHING AND GIGGLING ALOUD,

SAYING RIGHT WHATS’ ON YOUR MIND

WITH NOTHING MUCH TO WORRY ABOUT.

DAYS HEAVENLY ON CLOUD NINE,

OF LAUGHTER, SUNSHINE, BRIGHTNESS, FUN

WITH NO PAIN, ANGER, OR CRYING

DAYS WHEN YOU COULD BE GLAD AND JUST RUN

AND BELIEVE THAT ONE DAY YOUR DREAM’LL GO FLYING

DAYS WHEN THE SUNRAYS

WENT STREAMING OVER BUTTERCUPS

MAKING THEM SHINE WITH RICH YELLOW JOY

DAYS WHEN YOU COULD

HEAR EACH OF NATURES’ BREATH

BREATHE IN THE HAPPINESS

AND LET IT SINK IN.

WHEN YOU COULD LIE ON EARTHS’ CHEST

ON THE TENDER GREEN GRASS

AND LISTEN TO THE RHYTHM OF HER HEARTBEAT

IN THE BEATS OF THE WINDS.

DAYS WHEN BUTTERFLIES COULD STILL VENTURE INTO YOUR THOUGHTS

MINDS SO EMPTY OF EVERY WORRY.

BLISSFUL DAYS OF VACANT PARADISE

DAYS WHEN BAD GUYS COULD TURN TO GOOD,

WHEN BARBIE DOLLS WERE PRINCESSES,

WHEN FAIRYTALES COULD BE BELIEVED IN

& GOOD GUYS WOULD ALWAYS WIN.

A LITTLE BLUE BIRD

A LITTLE BLUE BIRD


SO HAPPY AS SHE IS

HOPS ABOUT AND THREADS THROUGH

THE CLOUDS LIKE FLEECE

A LITTLE BLUE BIRD

CHIRPING ALL DAY LONG

GAY, SPIRITED, YOUNG, SAFE IN THE

ASSUMPTION THAT SHE’LL BELONG

A LITTLE BLUE BIRD

MERRY AS SHE DOES HER CHORES

BRINGING HOPE AND JOY

TO THE SAILORMEN ON THE SHORES



WHY CAN’T I BE LIKE YOU, BLUE BIRD?

EVER JOYFUL, SPIRITED, GAY

YOU WITH YOUR WINGS CAN HOP AROUND AND PLAY

BUT HERE IN THE SQUALOR OF MANKIND

IN THE DRAB AND MOROSE MOOD

THAT GAIETY IS HARD TO FIND

BELIEVE ME, I WANT TO FLY WITH YOU AND FIND WHAT THE SKIES HAVE IN STORE,

BUT I CANT-I’M TIED UP,

PINNED DOWN TO THE FLOOR.

BORN AGAIN

Darkness goes and comes


And so does light

So does hope, beauty and faith

And all things bright



For every sparrow that dies

That loses its life

At that moment

A fledgling takes birth

Frail and clinging and blind

A little bit of life



For every darkness

That casts a gloom

Over the deadened world,

A dawn springs alive



For every life hanged

At the gallows of the guilty

An infant with innocence profound

Is brought in to the world



For every tear, there is a smile,

And for every sorrow, time to heal,

And joy to overcome sadness

So overwhelming and hard to bear

For every wound, there is a balm

For each insult- praise

For each black hole, a shining star

And various hues of life

To cover up the grays



For each life taken, there is one given

For all that must die

Will be born again as to renew time, space, man immaterial

Is the meaning of life

IN A THOUSAND WOUNDED EYES

WHEN THE SKIES ARE GRAY WITH GLOOM AND


PIERCING CLARIONS SCREAM OUT ‘DOOM’

WHENTHE SCARLET RED ON THE BODIES AROUND

MAKES IT LOOK LIKE FATE HAS FROWNED

UPON MANKIND

AND THE WORST EVER LOOKS LIKE IT HAS BEEN DESTINED



THEN, IN THE SQUALOR, THE POVERTY, THE GRIME

IN HUMANITYS’ MOST HEINOUS CRIME

IN THE BATTLES RAGED, WON AND LOST

IN THE EYES OF THE MEN DYING IN THE FROST



IN THOSE THOUSAND WOUNDED EYES,

AND THOSE ABSYMALLY DISFIGURED FACES,

COVERED BLISTER BY BLISTER,

YOU SEE A FLICKER- JUST A FLICKER

OF HOPE – THAT MAY SOME DAY BRING DAWN,

OF LIGHT THAT MAY SOMEDAY SHINE ON ALL



IN THE CRIES OF THE VULTURES CIRCLING OVERHEAD

THEIR GNAWING AT THE PEOPLE HALF-DEAD

IN THE BATTLEGROUNDS WHERE THE ONLY COLOUR SEEN IS RED

IN THE SHOUTS FOR HELP LEFT SUSPENDED IN THE AIR,

IN THE FACES THAT ARE CRYING, PLEADING,

IN THE FACES THAT ARE BARE

IN THOSE THOUSAND WOUNDED EYES,

CANNOT YOU SEE

THE HOPE FOR THE ULTIMATE MIRACLE

THAT WILL SET THEM ALL FREE

THAT WILL LET THEM RENOUNCE THIS WORLD-SO RUTHLESS

AND RELIEVE THEM OF THE PAIN OF THE FLESH

THAT’LL LET THEM GO TO A PLACE WHERE THERE IS NO PAIN

THAT WILL LET THEM GO-WITHOUT EVER HAVING TO VISIT AGAIN.

LIFE LIVED WELL

ON THE BRINK OF MY LIPS IS AN EARNEST PRAYER


THAT TOMORROW IN LIFE HOWEVER I MAY FARE

AND PUT YOU TO ME WHATEVER TEST,

JUST GIVE ME THE STRENGTH TO GIVE IT MY BEST.



THE WIND THAT BLOWS SHOULD ALSO SAY

THAT I WAS JUST TO WHAT CAME MY WAY,

AND THE NIGHTINGALE OF THE NIGHT,

AND THE CUCKOO, THE BIRD OF SPRING’S NEW LIGHT

SHOULD SING AND TELL

THAT WHATEVER I DID, I DID WELL



SHOULD THE LIFE’S MISLEADING ADVENTURE PATHS COME,

AS I KNOW THEY WILL

AND SHOULD LIFE’S TRUDGE ALL SEEM UPHILL,

LET THE UNREST AND PAIN ALL SEEM SWEET,

AND THE GRINDING BE SO TILL WORK’S COMPLETE.



SO MUCH SO THAT THE SUN SHOULD SAY,

ITS HEAT ALSO DID NOT BEAR ME DOWN ON THE WAY,

AND THE MOUNT SHOULD ALSO BE IN THE KNOW,

OF THE TOIL AND SWEAT OF THE BROW.



FOR WHEN THE SUN’S GOLDEN RAYS ARE SPENT

THE AUTUMN SET AND THE BACK IS BENT,

ALTHOUGH THERE MAYBE NO MEDALS TO BE WORN

AND THE MERITS OF MY WORK TO BE SHOWN,

THE WORK I DID SHOULD LIVE ON,

TO BE SHOWN TO ALL AFTER MY TIME BORN,

SO MUCH SO THAT GOD SHOULD ALSO COME TO SAY,

THAT HERE WAS A GIRL, WHO MADE HER OWN WAY,

ACROSS VALLEY, CANYON, RIDGE, RIVER AND HILL,

HERE’S A LIFE THAT HAS BEEN LIVED WELL

REMEMBERING YOU

DUSK FALLS AND STARS BEGIN TO PEEP,


THE COLD WRAPS ME UP IN AN EMBRACE,

AND THE DAGGER OF REALITY BEGINS TO SEEP IN;

SLOWLY I COME OUT OF MY DAZE

OH! HOW STILL AND FEARFUL IS THE NIGHT

THE SILENCE IS BOUNDLESS

RESOUNDING WITH A MOURNFUL ECHO,

IN THE STRAINED MOONLIGHT,

THERE SEEMS TO BE A WORLD A HUNDRED MILES AWAY

A WORLD I CANNOT REACH,

THE WIND IS MERCILESS AND THE CLOUDS GRAY

STRANDED IN THE PIT OF MELANCHOLY,

SO DARK, COLD AND DEEP

IT FEELS AS IF MY SOUL HAS BEEN LASHED AND THE PAIN IS STILL RAW

MY HEART IS CRYING FITFULLY

MY WHOLE SELF HAS BEEN CLAW-ED OUT

THERE IS NOTHING LEFT ANYMORE

I AM SINKING INTO AN ABYSS

OF AGONY, PAIN AND SORROW

I AM CHOKING IN FATES’ IRON-COLD FIST

AND IT SEEMS THERE CAN BE NO TOMORROW

THE TEARS I CRIED HAVE FROZEN INTO ICEDROPS NOW

THE WINDS HAVE WHIPPED ME ENDLESS

YET MY FACE IS BARREN

THERE’S NO TWINKLE IN MY EYE

THERE IS NO SPRING IN MY STEP

EVERYTIME I LOOK AT YOU MY HEART WANTS TO CRY.

I KNOW I SHOULD BE HAPPY

YOU’VE GONE TO A MUCH BETTER PLACE

BUT YOU KNOW I’LL MISS YOU

FOREVER FROM NOW I’VE LOCKED YOU IN MY HEARTS SPACE

SOUNDS OF EARTH

IT IS IN THE RHYTHMIC WIND BEATS,

THE NOISE OF THE SHORE,

THE CRUNCHING SOUND OF WET SAND ON A BEACH,

A STORM’S FURORE.



THE HOWL OF A WOLF AND ITS’ PACK

THE SHRIEKS OF A NIGHTBIRD

HALF-AWAKE.


IN THE SWEET MELODY OF THE CUCKOO BIRD,

IN THE SAD AND DESPONDENT SOUNDS,

THE PECK OF A WOODPECKER-SO PERSISTENT,

AND THE HARSH BARK OF HOUNDS.



IN THE CRACKING OF A NUT,

IN THE CRACKLING OF FIRE,

IN THE BLOOMING RUSH OF A BUD,

CANNOT YOU HEAR EARTH’S LYRE?



THE LAUGHTER OF MAN,

HIS EXHIBITS OF LOVE.

A SWEET FIRST KISS,

THE SOUND OF A DOVE.



THE EARTHS’ RHYTHM CAN BE HEARD

THE BEATS WITH WHICH SHE GYRATES,

HER LOVE AROUND US VIBRATES

HER SOUL SETTING US FREE

LEADING US ABOVE TIME, MAN, MANKIND

LEAVING ALL SORROW AND DESPONDENCE

BEHIND.

TAKE MY HAND

THE CLOUDS ARE DRAWING CLOSER,


AND THE SKY’S TURNING GRAY,

THE FUTURE STORM SCARES ME-

A TINY GIRL OF TWO,

AND A VOICE I HEAR-FAMILIAR AND WARM,

TAKE MY HAND CHILD, I’LL WALK WITH YOU,



THE CROWD’S NEW,

AND MY STEPS UNCERTAIN,

I’M NEW HERE AND I DON’T BELONG,

I WANT TO TURN BACK

AND NEVER COME HERE AGAIN,

BUT THE GRIP ON MY HAND IS FIRM,

TAKE MY HAND CHILD, THERE WON’T BE ANY PAIN.



THE SANDS OF TIME HAVE SINCE FLOWN PAST

THE HANDS OF THE CLOCKS HAVE TICKED

AND HERE WE ARE AGAIN.

PEOPLE TODAY TELL ME REMARKABLY LIKE YOU ,

IT MAKES ME BEAM WITH PRIDE,

IT’S ALL SO TRUE.

TAKE MY HAND ,GRANDFATHER

WE’LL WALK THE EXTRA MILE

AND DO ALL THE FUN THINGS

WE DID WHEN I WAS A CHILD.

SO,DON’T YOU WORRY ABOUT ME,

DON’T YOU EVER FRET,

I’M GROWING UP GRANDFATHER,

JUST YOU WAIT ,YET.

THE ARRIVAL OF SUMMER

IN THE WITHERING SPRING BLOSSOMS,

IN THE SILENTLY CREEPING HEAT,

YOU FEEL THE SUNS’ BURNING FINGERS

ABOUT THE THROAT



THE WIND AND ITS’ ENTIRE FLEET,

BOWS BEFORE THE SUN LORD;

AND IN THE TRENCHES OF THE FIRE-SAND,

TRUDGING ALONG IS THE ONLY WAY OUT





HE WHO STANDS HIGH AND TALL,

IS MERCILESSLY WHIPPED WITH

RODS OF THE SUN- INTENSE AND HARSH,

TILL THE MOUNTS’ BACK ACHES

AND HE

LONGS FOR THE BELLY OF THE SEA.





AND THEN THE NIGHT CASCADES,

ALL HARSHNESS OF THE SUN FADES,

BEING SOOTHENED AND CARESSED

BY THE CALM, GENTLE WIND

IS THE ONLY THOUGHT IN THE WORLD.

THE HORRORS OF SUMMER WILL BE HERE,

RELIVED AGAIN AND AGAIN,

BECAUSE NOW SUMMER IS BACK AGAIN.