IN A TIME OF TERROR
by A. S. Maulucci
Come
rise with me
to
the top of a tower
where
we will pass an important hour.
From
there you can view with greater clarity
all
the things you need to see.
Our
country has become a solemn place
intent
upon our daily dollar
heedless
of the tightening collar.
In
Washington there’s a lack of grace,
mistrust
and fear watch from my neighbor’s face
like
snipers on a cathedral dome.
Once
we were the harvesters of hope.
Now
we are the actuaries of despair
breaking
all our pleasure down
taking
the measure of every pound
forecasting
what each desire will cost
until
the natural feeling is lost.
On
the radio and television
endless
talk of terrorism,
the
code is orange, the code is blue
it’s
hard to know just what to do.
Fearful
of offending
we
speak through a filter attached to a mask
conversation
has become a task.
We
stand like morticians around a corpse
ignorant
that he was once our brother
not
daring to look at one another.
O
brethren, what’s become of our glad spirit?
There’s
too much grieving, can’t you hear it?
Paranoia
is a wretched enterprise.
Take
hold of your humanity and arise.
See
the turmoil down below
the
black smoke from all those cars, buses, trucks
hangs
like a canopy
crawls
up the walls
covers
windows, blocks the sunlight
how
dimly lit the day’s become.
The
river is now the color of liver,
it
coils under bridges, slithers along its banks,
stretches,
and scratches itself against the wharf.
See
the turmoil down below
people
are moving in a mass
how
ant-like they look from here
although
you cannot see their features
they
indeed are human creatures
with
children, parents, partners
who
depend and dote on them,
and
yet they feel alone.
One
in a thousand has a heart of stone,
of
the others, some will find a partner for the night,
sex
is sadly their chief delight.
O
hedonism is a joyless thing,
think
of all the sorrow it will bring . . .
But
now to my main objective.
Though
the hearts of most are filled with fear
things
are not as they appear.
Indeed,
there will come a time to be afraid,
there
will come a time
when
the holy prophets will be vindicated,
there
will come a time
when
the evil will be eradicated.
The
time for daring is past.
The
universe is indeed disturbed.
Now
is not the time to eat the peach,
for
it is contaminated.
Now
is not the time to exceed our reach,
for
it would be ruinous.
The
time of revelation is at hand.
The
decisive moment is at hand.
Now
I simply have to ask,
are
you equal to the task?
Cal,
Cal, Caliban
is
hiding in Afghanistan.
A
tempest is brewing,
but
it’s not his doing.
On
the radio and television
endless
talk of terrorism.
The
code is orange, the code is yellow,
it’s
very hard to keep things mellow.
And
yes there was a day
when
the spirit of the age
spoke
of love during wartime.
There
was indeed a time
when
the ideology was made of good stock
and
thousands shared their joy at Woodstock.
All
they wanted was to give peace a chance
and
for all to join the dance.
It
doesn’t seem like such a burden
to
practice what the prophets preach,
to
pass the love on each to each
until
we reach
every
last soul on earth.
I
think the effort is worth while.
Lazarus
may no longer rise from the dead,
but
Christ will return to ask,
“Did
you do what I said?”
But
some would not have it so.
The
fire that ignites their mind
is
a profit of a different kind.
In
the canyons of their cities
you
can hear the simple ditties,
it’s
a pity how they holler
when
they lose their daily dollar.
Beware
the phantom with false eyes,
and
a president who lies.
The
threat of terror is a distraction
from
the moral putrefaction
in
Washington,
cherchez
la trompe,
beware
of the one
who
cries "Fake!”
to
hide every single mistake.
Look
there on the balcony.
Did
you hear the young woman laugh?
It’s
for her I broke my staff.
See
the old man in that room,
for
him it has become a tomb.
The
world’s a frightening place
when
all your news comes from a box
it’s
easy for the ticking of the clocks
to
sound like a countdown
to
Armageddon.
People
can be fooled,
masses
can be ruled,
but
not by me.
I
want no part of such chicanery.
Political
power should come with the stipulation
that
there will be no manipulation.
People
cannot be made to do
what
goes against their nature.
Change
must come from within
preceded
by an awakening.
See
the children in the park?
What’s
become of their innocence?
Their
pleasure is tainted,
their
happiness is painted.
Terrorism
may be to blame
but
so is our vengeance
that
goes by the name
of
patriotism.
Cal,
Cal, Caliban
ran
off and joined the Taliban,
now
he marches to and fro
with
no fear of Prospero.
How
dare he brand me as the infidel?
An
oath that threatens cannot go well.
But
must we speak of so much killing?
Why
aren’t we willing
to
stop force at the source
which
is hatred.
Loving
thy neighbor should not be labor
but
a joy beyond reckoning.
When
I hear the angels calling
I
know they are not human voices.
If
only we could make a decision
to
seize upon the vision
of
angels combing out their hair.
The
light of the blessed
has
been tested
till
its radiance has a glow like no other.
I
thank you, brother,
for
listening.
I’ve
detained you long enough,
it’s
the hour to depart.
The
sky grows dark, the way is far.
I
think I see the glimmer of a star.
Take
my hand and down we’ll go
to
find our way through the streets below.
