My cabin sits on the west bank of Lake Woebegone
Dawn comes early
The woods awaken
A mist lies upon the water
From all points of the compass Loons cry
The gathering that had been foretold has begun
As the sun rises, from the mist, shapes of souls form
They are those of men and women
Who no longer walk the earth
They are counted and separated
There are those who chose to change
And those who did not
Those that changed await their flight into the blue
To bring the message and their seed to the cosmos
Those who did not danced upon the water
Writhing like snakes
As the sun rises it draws them into the void
Some cry and beg for another chance
But it is too late
They have denied and were indifferent to the truth
That when their eye saw man’s enmity toward another man
And they looked away
When they heard a child, a wife or mother cry
And they choose not to listen
What their hand has touched and they were not touched
When they tasted the bitterness of hatred
And said that it was like
The sweetness of a spring rain
That the odor of a needless death
Was like the fragrance of a rose
As they have willingly closed their mind and heart to these senses
When they really knew what was true
They have condemned themselves for all of eternity
What of us
Will we learn?
Or will we dance upon the water?