There’s a window
out at the edge of everything
where the soul’s go
out and in,
and this is all just a bauble, a bubble, a puddle,
which we fight war’s over again and again.
There’s a window,
O dear brothers departed,
I see you all gazing in,
wondering why we become so defiant of love,
again and again.
There’s a window,
at either end of everything.
I’ve seen them go out and come in
and here we are wondering
thinking that
this is all that there is.
For some I know,
after all was said and done
it seemed the only way
through the wall
after all
this world’s a wall.
But there’s a window
out at the edge of everything
like lightning
like the tide coming in
we all fall down down
down to the ground, ground, ground…
There’s a window
out at the edge of everything;
in every room,
in every wall,
down every corridor
in every hall –
burst of bright birds from our finished bodies
through the window
to go home again, to go home again….