Poem 1: The Rising Sun

Shh, do you hear that?

--what are they singing about?

The birds are signaling the rising sun,

As the night transitions into dawn,

Perhaps they seek to tell us about themselves,

The Germanic songs speak of bloody wars,

The rise and fall of the world's most hated man,

The iron curtain and to the distance the realized red nightmare,

The death and suffering that followed in this region--

We will tell these tales for decades to come...

But are we doomed if history repeats itself?

I say the record is straight but we are mighty flawed,

And who can speak for the birds?

What stories will they pass down to their progeny?

For man has a very limited and often selfish perspective,

The birds, if they could talk like you or like me,

Could provide us with wisdom of which we've never seen,

Imagine--seeing the world from above all your life,

But for now, it appears they possess an esoteric knowledge,

And we, are merely unaware of what they know,

But at the moment night is giving way to the eerie, foggy morning,

And nature's voice this morning is certainly soothing to hear,

For a tired mind like mine, dreams are at my calling,

I slip into a bed like the rolling clouds and close my eyes, thinking:

"...the birds are signaling the rising sun,

and perhaps, that is simply all we need to know."

from 'dreams time' website

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**This poem belongs to Greg and first appeared in the 'Ideas Are Bulletproof' blog. Do not reproduce this poem without permission and proper citation. **