At the crossroads
A group fired with
Ancient animosity,
Old grudges
Primed with passion
Of a primitive nature,
Stirring up mob mentality
Seducing us to chose again
The well worn paths
That lead predictably
To pain – loss – devastation.
How to interrupt this
Momentum into
Monkey madness,
To silence the building roar?
This is a cry for conversion!
Look for space
Speak into the storm
Calm the seas
Walk on water
I can do but little
I am all I have.
– jml (2002)
