When we become cynical life can seem so dreadful. So full of hate, of all we've done and done to us;
When we lose innocence, in the early part of life; perhaps much later made more clear;
When we forget with what or whom we are connected, all the Universe so, if abstracted;
When we forget that first song, that made us breathe - faster and more deeply;
Was it Hendrix? Was it Bowie? Or by chance some Bach played slowly.
When we began at first to love, but then to have its world on us cave in;
When we realized it was all a dream; some concoction, another hateful co-dependent scheme;
When we finally grew up, but then in a sights grow clear a specter of Death looming near;
When we gently as a feather put, our heads on pillow to admit,
There's something greater just out there;
All we have to do is share.
By Wu Sharman
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