We Must Look

Behind the dirt
Sprawled before us Behind narrow eyes
And faces of fat
Beyond those hands
Opened or closed
That strain in vain
Nor raise thier fists
Further than frontiers
That barb our path
Further than misery
We must look
We must look at What is beauty
The grey sky or blue
The women by the stream
The faithful friend
Tomorrow’s sun
The fly to the swallow
The boat that returns
The faithful friend
Tomorrow’s sun
The fly to the swallow
The boat that returns
Beyond the concert
Of sobbs and tears
Of cries of anger
Of men in fear
Beyond the din of Streets and singers
Of warning sirens
Of swearing porters
Stronger than children
Who recount the wars
And stronger than
The great who’ve made us make them
We must listen to The bird in the wood
THe murmer of summer
The rising of blood
THe mother soft songs
The childrens prayer
And the noise of the earth
Gently falling to sleep
THe mother soft songs
The childrens prayer
And the noise of the earth
Gently falling to sleep
We must listen
We must look