Of the breath I draw
The feet that walk
The mouth that talks
Eyes of blue or gray or brown
The face that wears a smile or frown
The inner workings of the brain
That bring much joy
That bring much pain
Hands that softly, tenderly,
caress a babe most lovingly
But those same hands can turn to fists,
striking blows they can’t resist
Hatred, fear, resentment swelling
Like a crazed self portrait compelling
Nothing stops errant direction
Now is time for Big Correction
If you are blind to changes coming,
They’re hard to see as world keeps humming
But He who’s tired and saddened, too
Watching handiwork He can’t undo,
Incapable of self control
Time for realignment of the soul
Our evil bent has last too long
Now the somber Buddha’s gong,
Sweet intertwined with Song of Songs
Signals end of all that’s wrong
One more chance to turn around
To stay the race and reclaim our ground
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