I see a stream of men,
And the sky is dark and the years are long,
But softly they sing of Hope,
Which is the boundary between reality and dreams;
I see a river of women,
And through the evil of despair
They cling to the God of love
And wish for heaven;
I see the boiling clouds of war
And the leering face of destruction,
And the human spirit reduced to its essence,
Quivering in the raw sunlight of pain and rejection;
I see the Moment,
And the fear,
And the dance with no end that must be stopped for the Now
And the Moment turned towards creation;
I see the human heart,
And the heart is strong,
But the battle’s with ourselves
And the battle’s not begun.
Towards the sun, then,
Until the dawn,
And everything to play for,
And nothing’s yet been won.
