Sing the Songs of Tenderness

 
Sing the Songs of Tenderness

The mother whispers lullabies
To soothe her child to sleep—
For there's a time to wake and then
A time to slumber deep.

The piper leads the men to war;
The drums are beating loud.
But when the men return, we see—
Of war, they're rarely proud.

There is a time for speeding and
There is a time to slow.
Too much of one or other leads
To sorrows, more and more.

We've spent our lives in rushing and
We've fed the fires of war.
Let's sing the songs of peace, so we
Remember who we are.

We aren't only soldiers; we
Are not just worker ants.
We also need to smile, to weep,
To kiss and gently dance.

So sing the songs of gentleness;
Sing the songs of love.
Sing the songs of mellow times,
Of languor and of joy.
 
The profits and the wounding grow.
It's healing that we lack.
From Mars and Mammon, let us take
Our Muse and Music back..
   
******
 
There's grief enough to fill the world—
The wars that do not end
And all the cruelties of men
That rend our bodies, hearts.
   
There's separation, illness, death,
The dashing of our dreams,
The waste of labor and of lives,
The loss of treasured stores.

We do not wish to only hear
The pistons and the guns,
The screams, the paeans to the self,
The cacophonous blasts.

So keep from us the bang, the screech,
The speeding, pounding beat
And all the noise that emulates
The wars and factories.

******

We go to work as if to war.
The struggles never end—
For each competes with others and,
To orders, must attend.
 
There's little time to draw a breath
And let it out in peace—
To watch the child or kitten play,
To visit aunt or niece.

We rush about in vehicles—
In cars, in buses, trains.
How rarely can we slowly walk,
So all the madness wanes?

Why waste our time in meanness and
In giving more of pain?
Why spend our lives in earning, when
We only lose from gain?
     
What point is there in battles that
Destroy the heart and soul?
There's need for more of healing and
For all that makes us whole.

So sing the songs of tenderness,
Of softness and of love,
To smooth the furrowed brow awhile
And soothe the hurt within.
 
There's time enough for speeding, yet
There's little time to slow.
So sing the songs that slow the pace
Before it's time to go.
   
2016 February 27th, Sat.
Brooklyn, New York