Sheila Williams ~ Singing Cloud

WELL TAUGHT!

Sheila Williams ~ Singing Cloud: Well Taught!Cold, grey, sky heavy laden,
silent clouds moving slowly,
not quite dark yet little light,
brooding feeling of disaster coming,
chills whisper on the skin,
and there is nowhere to run.

River white-capped
small waves lapping,
though the air is barely moving,
sludge trapped in floating branches
look like arms raised in pleading,
eyes drawn against my will, watching.

Stark against the skyline,
bare winter-stripped trees are standing,
all one shade and unchanging,
despair rips through my spirit,
prayers caught in my throat
unspoken.

Across the hills there is a darkening,
arms wrapped tight around my body,
watching as night is falling,
small sounds then more silence,
even the feathered seemed stunned to quiet.

Light breeze pushes me homeward,
there is no use to worry more,
it is done and there is no stopping,
time now to prepare as best we are able,
strange but the fear is gone.

Action now is needed,
before the sun rise brings the ending,
no more time for thinking
the test of survival is upon us,
mans own actions have decided.

Dreams of peace, love, and caring,
untold millions praying,
unfulfilled forever in a time
where all things were possible,
with one mind
those chosen to lead destroy all.

Empires topple; rotted from the inside,
paper dreams and paper money,
up in smoke without a whisper,
moaning sound is not the wind
but the crying souls of mankind.

So many doomsayers had been nay-ed,
shushed away like wheat chaff;
it will never happen to us,
so Rome fell – what of it?
That was in the past and forgotten.

History teaches many lessons,
but only for those wise enough to learn them;
those who will not are forever looped in failure:
this is what comes of ignoring Elders.

When an empire has become so intent on spending,
on chasing youth and childish whims,
when war seems to be the only answer,
they have already lost what truly matters.

Death becomes ho-hum,
murder a favorite pastime,
nothing new and no excitement,
without bloodshed life is boring,
the children’s games reflect that,
and the song is over.

Self fulfillment is all that matters,
ever seeking pleasures,
flash and glitter make you special,
abusing spouse or child accepted,
and the starving homeless offend your senses.

The war shattered are no longer Heroes,
but a shameful reminder that you are hiding,
used to further your plans,
then pushed away and degraded,
spoken of but rarely.

Finally your only god is gold,
your only friend is yourself,
you can no longer trust because you know your own mind,
it is time to face your maker,
and you, what will be your answer?

And so, you push that button,
and why not, what is there worth saving,
is not the whole world the same,
do not all men want what you covet,
to control it all or destroy it?

Full dark now no time for dreaming,
the night brings a false peace,
those who know are busy,
well taught by those who knew this too would come,
and we, we listened!