Long way home

March in unison o’ divisions of my heart Of the sharded moon Let each battalion have its part To blind and blaze in its own heaven And fight by its phases More than seventy times seven. A braided heart I had in keeping Now bound and guarded Under eyes unsleeping I spurned the crass and goaded flesh When to have you then Was to love you less.

Strong men are weeping  Weeping softly at twilight  The sound rises with the  Smoke of cook fires The city trembles in the  Evening light for As the face of the sun has left the sky The voice of justice has fallen silent in the gate A child has taken his place  From the top of the wall a child lifts its voice  From the gate there is no answer  The eminent men are silent  The landowners examine Hastily written contracts in the  Weak light of a single lamp  Strong men selling their inheritance  For doubtful promises of safety  And the seats in the gate are empty