this beautiful night
gives to us stars and wind
and some nights, like this one
a shining round beacon
a peaceful companion
 to slice the heavens
the skies pirouette for us
a fine place to dance
is this world
but during this dark time
the world swirls and shakes and seems
to be stirred into violent quakes of humanity jostling
I guess the dance floor is too crowded
all unwilling to give up "their" space - as entitled by whom?
by movements of force- action/reaction - guns and butter rule
dancers crash the tables
 creating hoards of confused refugees
with next to nothing, belongings on their backs
who has room in their inn?
Bethlehem is beseiged
everybody is right everybody is wrong
everybody has rights everybody is wronged
everybody stands and fights
everybody buckles and falls
we lose our footing in this dance
forget our steps
radical thinking is needed well outside the boxes
we have inherited
boxes of trinkets and baubles
precious things assessed with big numbers
all we have
we need to be ready to lose
boxes plunked on land no one can own
thousands of years people have tried
radical thinking is needed well outside the boxes
we feel we have inherited if we wish to be somewhere
tomorrow night, when the skies pirouette again

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Index of new writing © 2002 Thomas Coleman
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