Always under the whip,
We cringe before the signs.
Who? What? Where? When?
How? Goddamnit! How?
Panic brings destruction,
Ease of thought, godliness:
Faith in the possible, trust in the spirit,
The bounteous well, the holy child,
The errant dreamer,
The naked dancer under a warming sun.
Peace, my troubled prince;
Time is short, but long enough for what is right.
George Chadderdon © 1996