It was before Christmas

Three weeks before Christmas

I met people and peoples

of origin in ideas.

Bards of compassion

they were leaven of destruction

builders after the unlearned.

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You start from the tree, the shrub

the flower, the rat, the cat

you start

from the drums

from rain

from the words of past living

and words whispered

to and from lovers.

You go beyond, you must.

'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

It was before Christmas.

And heat was soil, and soil was air.

The voices formalised, materialised

-they were not from beyond-

Nowhere “and in everything”.

'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

The crickets came back

and the frogs.

The moon, and of her Jesus

the song.