Innocent question
Where is the child?
Poor dumb wise
Your innocence is painful
In a land of violence
You cannot see
The obvious
Child perceived as threat, real danger
Surrounded by fear of a takeover
Yet you talk in blissful naivety
“Show us where to find the child.”
What child?
You mean the unborn child, the theoretical child, right?
The one that is not a threat, not born of our enemy
The one that we imagine looks like us and will become us, right?
We love the unborn
We really care for those who are not here
They do not scare us. They will never be our undoing.
Where is the child?
Poor dumb wise
Wandering through a story you should know
Clumsy steps in your own history
Right in the left
Left in the right
Untied strings dragging through time
You ask too much and see too little
Those with weapons are way ahead of you
Calculating, while you are asking
They make the wise their tools
“Yes,” they say, “If only we could find that child, the one we all want to see,
the one we can galvanize support for…
….the future we all want to see.”
While we wait for that future, they will clear the streets,
CLEAR THE STREETS!
take away the unwanted dark litter
Wanted only in the cries of their mom-kin-folk
Where is my child?
Where is MY child?
The wise with their resources
Gifts to be given
Must be kept from power’s deception
Until the child appears to them and becomes their wisdom
