“Dear shadow, you have keen eyes.
You looked while I ran,
tell me what you’ve seen.”
“I’ve seen our path cut through
a crowd’s agitation. One by one,
they want to say what they mean.
They want to dress, or undress,
love who they want, dance, drink.
They are hungry to just let be.”
“Yes, yes, I remember them.
They opened the gates
to let the demons free.”
“And a little further back
I see old men, in shadows
looking to the West and to the East.
Their World is black and white.
Cornered, they hold and let go.
Their clenched fists are dripping mud.”
“How could I forget a philosophy?
Behind bars, vengeful, alone
with only a personal God.”
“Farther back still, I see wolves,
opportunistic, patient, unwise,
red eyes calculating their cut.
Carnage is their business,
war their expanding habitat,
oil their machinery’s blood.”
“Are we not wolves ourselves?
Did we not eat what they brought?
Oh, my head hurts!”
“And finally I see
nothing but clouds, and rain enough
to wash all sins, young and old.
The ideology of fear, just begun,
accelerating ever more
to the denial of power and gold.”
“So there is no escape.
In this festive atmosphere, forget seeing.
Sing and dance instead!”