The Peace of Wild Thing
When Despair Grows In me
I wake in the middle of the night at least sound in fear
of what my life and my children. Maybe me.
least sound in fear.
I rest in this beauty on the water and the great heron feeds,
I come into the presence of still water,
I am into the peace of wild things, but nothing noteworthy has happened so far and what else I might have seen, make the sound and the round on other chaste.
With all the time in the world, to have, I go and lie down where the shadow of the wood darkens,
Rest in this beauty on the water and the heron feeds,
I come into the peace of wild things.
Who do not tax their lives with fore thought of grief, become aware that there was, but nothing, noteworthy has happened so far.
September 11, 2001
I am as I feel above me the day- blind stars,
Waiting for their light as the brilliantly, funny thing that had happened so far,
It's a wild thing everything ~@ a puree with a lot's of grief.
It draws rally, cry grief, trouble, anger, fear, and heart break, full of sadness.
Full of question, disappointment, disbelief, mourning, devastation to the World and national disaster,
Whose affair is this? Requiring concern, attention and effort of that particular event.
Where is the hidden hand behind the cover story?
It’s horrendous, the day of September 11th, 2001, the big lie, fantasy of untruth, manipulation, contradiction and abnormality,
with the war that draws the "peace of wild thing" or that is performance or affect war game that strife conflict performance, between parties lick war dance,
or war whoop by primitive people to arouse warlike emotional for frighten an enemy for that particular event "'performance" or conflict that make war show cry like Aerosol, a like.
Whose Affair is this Anyhow?
It's a bad day’s wild thing, with a lot of grief and sadness.
For a time I rest In the grace of the world peace and I am free but nothing noteworthy has happened so far.
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