In lieu of content, I give you poetry
Did we dream too hard of Prussia, Prague and Paris
Did we fly too close to the happiness of Icarus
Did we melt beneath the fire of the things we felt in flight
Did we dream too hard of tomorrows that still pummel us at night
Did we speak too soon of things that never end
Did we promise little forevers to which we did not tend
Did we neglect to nurse from the fount which waters the Gardens of Eden
Did we speak too soon of dreams too hard and fears of things we needn’t
Did we look too far ahead to see the struggle of our present
Did we cave in to the world’s malaise of arrogance unrepentent
Did we fly too close and dream too hard: Did we really mean to do this?
Did we speak too soon in anger to know what the real truth is?
@ Helen Mosher, all rights reserved. Written Mar 2003 as a “first draft, because the meter took a life of its own.” Yeah, I should probably get back on that.