Being

Looking through your crystal stares
The scatter leaves me lacking
But every doubt the smiles declare
True lustre, cut and setting
When everywhere is chance to better
You store away each shed piece
As if to lose would sacrifice
A mine that is much too deep

Tomorrow will be changed
Like when the soldiers came
They broke our backs, our schools, our homes
By smoke they did invade
And ashes rose and hung for years
Baked blood and steamed the rain
On return, our hearts were full, but nothing was the same
As the day the soldiers came

Sometimes I wonder about the key
Through doors to the obsidian night
The falling leaves twirl down towards the waiting winter’s bite
And in the cold the inkblots tell us stories of the summer
Breaths of warm seas, touch of cool breeze
Open storms of monsoon wet
And underneath the changing skies
The spring is all I need