Weaving Words

<p>On the land they minister with care the prisoners came out today</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p>To cut the wheat and take in the air</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p>From the road passing my eyes were caught by the sight: </p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p>The prisoners had gone leaving rows of straight half-stalks-gold</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p>Come with me and if you will we can cry our lamentations as we look into the present; or we in flame our spirit with a different vision: a world of knowledge a world contained a world humane. Here in this poetry collection we break the rush of inane progress which is taking us towards dangerous shores then discern a greater call to move our feet and dance.</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p>