Gift Wrapped

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Gift Wrapped
What is this fate which breaks the will of men?
That insidious grim stealer of magic and dreams,
Unyielding face with gritty voice, black cloak.

What caricatures of men live a lie?
That all can survive, and some may live large,
In deep worn trances, rich in rhythmic chants.

What concerns for other’s lives touch men’s souls?
That divine breath which transcends mortality,
From long forgotten ancient memories.

What is this life that ripples in men’s hearts?
That bridges knowing, love and restless grief,
Gift wrapped in a weave of human thread.

© David R. Durham
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Echoes of Somewhere

Somewhere there is a beating human heart,
Human heart, human heart;

Somewhere there is a heart that is singing,
Is singing, is singing;

Somewhere there is our dearest lover,
Dearest lover, dearest lover;

Somewhere there is the warmest of smiles greeting us,
Greeting us, greeting us;

Somewhere there is our human life, consumed and soon forgotten,
Soon forgotten, soon forgotten;

Somewhere there is an angel chanting, chanting our healing songs,
Healing songs, healing songs;

Somewhere there is a truth so near, so simple,
So simple, so simple;

Somewhere there is an eternal home we never left,
Never left, never left;

Somewhere there is a God who never believed in our human dream,
Human dream, human dream;

Somewhere is here,
Is here, is here.

© David R. Durham
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