Our time in a torrent or in a lake deep and still
It will pass,
And strongly or weakly the wind in our sails
On and on it shall blow,
And throughout one or both, we tell our stories,
May grow old.
We dutifully took up the reigns that we were given,
In so doing with sharp rivets we were nailed upon the cross.
Our hearts tossed in tumultuous torrent rapids,
Toward the gutters and the drains deep dark underground.

And in years to come,
A man shaking his bloodied fists
And broken tears as shattered glass
Directed where the Holy Spirit reigns,
Where the swallows sing, looking upwards on high.
He never got a little tiny break,
In the stillness and the star struck night,
His spine-tingling wailing cries,
O why,
O why,
O why,
Crying for those he loved and loves,
Why oh why they had and have to die -
it's more than this man can take.

And she lives her years,
Much more and she will break,
Her baby boy sustains her and will make her smile,
But this woman needs more, she wants to wait with rapid beating heart,
She carries a vacuum heavy boulder in her heart and womb,
She needs so much more than this life this empty tomb!

An explosion of life, fireworks shoot and colours fly
So high, and the backdrop of the silver moonlit sky behind,
Let me give that to you, make love, fill that void
In which you exist.
Bring the trees with palms exotically,
The flowers trembling to life seeking warmth, the water lillies
And the pond I see, your reflection,
Your profound beauty
Rippling among the waters and flowers
In those short and desperate hours.

Woman, you know who you are,
You bring so much beauty,
It's not in you to bring despair!
One day you may find me there,
All wandering and lost
But when I see your face,
My brightening face,
I am lost no more.

AJ Buttle 19 November 2010