Wings Of Second Birth

Wings Of Second Birth
© Surazeus
2017 01 24

While driving the dark highway before dawn
in quaint southern town near the sparkling sea,
I listen to the bard Bob Dylan sing
about despair on Desolation Row.
We are the weeping children of this Earth,
rising on Phoenix wings of second birth.

Before the omens of the moon are gone
we recall that we must fight to live free
before money-blind men can clip our wings
and steal our labor with deceptive show.
We are the wandering children of this Earth,
rising on Phoenix wings of second birth.

Though everyone agrees on what is true
greedy men who seek to control our minds
will try to convince us we should believe
their alternative facts are far more real.
We are the searching children of this Earth,
rising on Phoenix wings of second birth.

With our eyes and hands we must seek each clue
and organize world view from all our finds,
thus with many threads of facts we can weave
grand tapestry that shows time-spinning wheel.
We are the learning children of this Earth,
rising on Phoenix wings of second birth.

We must believe what we see with our eyes
and agree what is real through dialogue,
then share one vision from our combined dreams
to dispel the blinding spell of their lies.
We are the watching children of this Earth,
rising on Phoenix wings of second birth.

Tyrants claim to control the world and skies,
trying to blind us with haughty monologue,
but we find truth with friends by flowing streams
that give us life under wide open skies.
We are the singing children of this Earth,
rising on Phoenix wings of second birth.