Homelands
by Everett A Warren
August 7, 1991
Dream awhile in the meadow,
Lonely child curled up in your blanket of stars.
The constellations dance around you
And the sounds of the woods sing a soothing lullaby.
And when you wake in the morning,
With the mists slowly rising, cleansed in the gentle dew,
Can you see the horizon where yesterday you sang of purple mountains,
Can you see the cold gray concrete spires that scrape the sky?
Unwrap the serpentine dreams that coil about destiny,
Wring sorrow free of tears and hope free of fears,
Unleash the elephantine thoughts that dance through time.
Dream awhile in the gutter,
Foolish man curled up in your blanket of yesterdays news.
The world-as-you-know-it dances around you
And the sounds of the street intone their cold nightmares.
And if you wake at the dawning,
With the machines slowly grinding, cleansed in the sweepers stream
Can you see the peaks of the cold gray concrete spires that surround you,
Can you escape from the maze and find the horizon and find the mountains of old?
Can you find your way home?
Copyright (c) 1991 Everett A Warren