When I was lost amongst the reeds
With mud between my toes
I saw before me that which feeds
The world’s most troubling woes

It took the form of a man bright
With words as fine as silk
Whose power lay in verbal might
To lead those of his ilk

But there amongst the reeds I saw
His feet were muddy too
And his facade for me did thaw
Revealing what was true:

His pow’r was false, his words a trick
Aimed t’ward some lesser mind
His muddy feet were poised to kick
People not of his kind

In sitting ‘pon the whitecap cloud
I ride the summer’s breeze
By autumn undeterred, unbowed
I cross to far-off seas

The noisome crowds babble and cry

Their harsh, unceasing words

I wish I could not comprehend

And heard them as the birds