Book And Rifle

He has an idea in his head An idea that he knows the Truth An idea that God believes in him An idea the rest of us can never understand. These ideas sleep perfectly well Inside his tiny, couching world And we with all our wisdom Cannot break the silence in his mind The cold knock of anger in his heart We cannot win a battle we were Never meant to wage And yet we must enjoin With all the courage of our Ancient love. And through this love, conquer Even death, so idly taken Cannot stop the pulse of dreams The suns of our tomorrows Yet rising, ever boldly The soul of human be Intact. (Previously published in Wired Art from Wired Hearts, July 2002; The Odeum,2002)