In the faded blue now turned dark
There sparkle the settlements of an age
An eyesore to the unspoilt landscape
A sign of hope to the weary traveler
A beacon amidst the puffs of clouds
Which dispel the views our tired minds are longing for.
Holding on just this little bit longer
The time now measured in our descent
as the clouds embalm us
The darkness almost entombing –
But we pray, collectively,
That engineering, yes science,
Will save us again,
Will transport us safely into the bosom of our destination.
We are the pilgrims set out against life
In search of it
In the nuances of every step
We are fools hoping for change
And yet we see it,
We feel it,
Perceive it at every turn.
But collectively we become lost in the mantras
The sheer superstition ,
Rock Face sheer, cliffintine,
We have it, it us
And shattered in our communion
We scream injustice
Searching for our scapegoat
The voodoo functions
The blame is cast
The snake eyes removed as was our Judas.
And again as we set down we forget our hysteria
And once more we move beyond the limits of our fear
Into the freedom that forgetfulness and ignorance afford us.
© TheHairyTeacher 2017