Mother, the churches are burning,
the temples we built have crashed to the ground,
I feel like an alien in this my native land,
all around me I see people turning,
turning away from each other.
In this market heaven its success we crave,
the old freedom fighters will be turning in the grave
As we sell our soul for the mighty dollar.
Mother, the order is falling,
the temples we built have crashed to the ground,
I feel like an alien in my native land,
all around me I see people running,
running like dogs after the bitch success.
There is no communion, there is only self;
in this world we are nobody unless we have wealth,
and no-one is more than the things they possess.
Mother, my church is still burning,
the temples we built have crashed to the ground,
my history exiled from my native land.
How can we be blind to lessons that need learning?
Mother Albion your sacred light is fading,
holy soldiers are singing in praise of war,
their voices are a message we cannot ignore,
and Mother, I fear we are dying.
I hope you are well? About your poem: I am right now in London and I can tell you, this is a fabulous city, even with all the Churches. It is truly an international city and properly diversified; unlike New York, where various nationalities stick to their neighborhoods, (and maybe it's like that here too) but I see people of all races and nationalities mingling in the pubs and restaurants of which are plentiful.
Now, as for the Churches burning...what the Churches are doing unlike Islam is maturing and evolving. There is a steep Christian history here in the U.K. as well as the pagan history. And to the best of my knowledge, you are free to practice whatever pleases you here in the U.K.
As for us capitalists being consumed with chasing the dollar, I assume you mean the British Pound which is ridiculously high right now, I say good! Chasing after wealth increases the wealth of others.
While there is a very large gap between the ultra-rich and the poorest of the poor, those poor are still better off than they would be in a third world country where everyone is at the same income level. With that level being totally impoverished!
Okay, you be good. Don't worry, it could be worse, we could be living in Afghanistan and I could be wearing a burqa and be lashed for even typing this to a man I don't know lest he perceive me as the provocateur.
~ Sara
In the distance, I see a new and beautiful temple standing on my neighbor's hill. It's white and gleaming, with a golden spire.
And in my garden, I'm just beginning to see the baby spire peek out of the soil.
In our hidden valleys, all over this land, there are tiny temples aspiring. Breathe hope. Teach love. And pray with a faith undaunting. --Charlie
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Stand strong!
Richard Lloyd Cederberg