Thursday, November 03, 2005

Around This Time Last Year

Early every year the seeds are growing
Unseen unheard they lie beneath the ground
Would you know before the leaves are showing
That with weeds all your garden will abound

If you close your eyes, stop your ears
Hold your tongue, how can you know?
The seeds you cannot see may not be there
The seeds you cannot hear may never grow

In January you've still got the choice
You can cut the weeds before they start to bud
If you leave them to grow higher
they'll silence your voice
And in December you may pay with your blood

So close your eyes, stop your ears
Close your mouth and take it slow
Let others take the lead and you bring up the rear
And later you can say you didn't know

- Song of Choice,
Solas, The Words that Remain

1 comment:

Moltmannian said...

Amen sister. Has it really only been a year since that fateful day? This interminable reign of Caesar has clouded my memory. There's no past or future anymore.