The cry
that anguish
that weeps the moon
in tears that down pour
Like the tropic rain.
Soaks
theses fermented fields
of love, of pain
Drawn the liberator
releases the gates
that store house
where feelings draw
retain their form
and executes
here deep our souls
To the laughter and sadness
the engulfing web of time
and here upon it all
Is that cry
That voice within.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph