Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,
Roz Kaveney

A new year poem

Sestine- the year 2011

It was, like all our years, a year of war
a year of death, and sorrow, and of greed
of crowds that fought through danger to be free
of sudden kindnesses and random grace
of love and hatred, parched days and cold rain
and smouldering from long-neglected fires

Much of our works will die, perhaps in fires
or smashed collateral of some vast war
We stand faces upturned and look at rain
except for those whose eyes are fixed through greed
on other's disadvantage, have no grace
Their greed must go, or we will not be free

And we may die before we stand up free
our bodies cast by thousands into fires
and yet through struggle we reach out to grace
We hold each other tight. Around us war
may rage, and profit those who live for greed
but all that rage will quench and die through rain

the rain that lasts past death, the fertile rain
that's cold and wakes us. Wakes us to be free
wakes us to fight the ones who live for greed
wakes us and helps us to put out the fires
in which our dead burn and the dead of war
the rain that is just water, feels like grace

And if we die, we live again as grace
we fall as tears on friends, we fall as rain
we last though dead beyond the years of war
we last beyond our work. Dead we are free
as rain and tears we will put out the fires
and last beyond the ones who live for greed

My curse upon a world that's killed by greed
My blessings on the sudden random grace
of love for comrades, sisters. Through the fires
some will survive and struggle. And the rain
will fall, bring grace to them, they will be free
washed of the ash of fires, the filth of war

In fires we will see burn the life of greed
With rain we will be washed, the tears of grace
At last we will be free, beyond the war.

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