The Age of Reason

Not sure what to say after what happened again today in America.

Sometimes I find a strange solace in the words of  a song or a poem.

This came to me tonight as I was searching for answers, and asking why we refuse to accept our human errors. Why we refuse to accept that war is wrong for so many reasons, lives, bodies and minds for generations.

We have to talk about it. War. And the consequences on our well-being, our sanity.

These are the lyrics for Ink In The Well by David Sylvian:

The lights of the ashes smoulder through hills and vales
Nostalgia burns in the hearts of the strongest
Picasso is painting the ships in the harbour
The wind and sails
These are years with a genius for living The rope is cut, the rabbit is loose
(Fire at will in this open season)
The blood of a poet, the ink in the well
(It’s all written down in this age of reason)

The animals run through harvested fields of fire
The bitterness shown on the face of the homeless
Picasso is painting the flames from the houses
The sudden rain
These are years with a genius for living

The rope has been cut, the rabbit is loose
(Fire at will in this open season)
The blood of a poet, the ink in the well
(It’s all written down in this age of reason)

Fire at will

And perhaps the one thing we have to learn by the end of 2012 is  how to get along for the love of humanity, our children and theirs.
lit-candle

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