Galilee

Now we're talking in our sleep The people look like trees With their arms around their knees Behind their eyes Fantasizing of their dreams Of a life that they could reach If only grief could be deceived At present, we see indistinctly as in a mirror Staring into the abyss of conscioiusness Wishing for it to be a little bit clearer And reveal itself The chaotic, cacophonous F-f-f-fear of the distance that plagues us Now I'm a Blind fool half asleep While the children learn to pray And the women start to weep Because they see The time The coming of the day When the wolves walk out the woods Waking sheep from out their sleep When they begin to scatter Wondering what was the matter With their sleep and their dreams Lying shattered in the grass Or rather disappeared Into the clear, thin air Then they will gather Then they will gather All around in the pasture To the sound so unfamiliar Yet familiar A mysterious voice sadder Yet happier, more joyous than any noise They'd ever heard before At present, we are sheep seeing indistinctly as in a mirror Staring into the abyss of consciousness Wishing for it to be a little bit clearer And reveal itself The chaotic, cacophonous F-f-f-fear of the distance that plagues us Do sheeps even dream? In the end the metaphysics are cryptic If only we could settle to be still and just listen To the voice of the Mystic But then, just then That Second the watchman will come walking out to say That the Mystic is dead This chapter in our conceit has ended But wait Not yet Maybe it's through His very Death The sheep will be redeemed! After all, the tomb was left empty Stop holding on to me, Mary Peter's threefold denial by the charcoal fire Was answered by another scene With another fire on the sea Of Galilee What if the whole world stopped to slow down Took a deep breath, meditated, looked around Appreciated The splendor that is to be found In Creation's sacred manifold Christened by the Holy Ghost?