When a baby hears a lullaby from every culture
This is a study on how humane we can be without being inhumanity
The gorilla is tender
Yet we add timbre to what we remember.
There is no hate
No difference between the breath and the skin and the flesh and bone
We are all home on the mortal soil
The seeds we bring
To the living.
The western baby hears the Turkish lullaby
And smiles at the same moment as the Russian lullaby is played for the western baby
Music is universal
Our heart bears no indifference should we chalice every vassal
Lost soul- dark heart- torn trough
It makes a world of difference
When we don't scrutinize
Hide our tired eyes of commercialism
Wrapped in blankets of desire
You will have to walk into a new world
And mercy equals none.
All the tanning Salons
Have no seasons
Hate is a learned thing
Comfort and want is not a cushion
It's an upbringing.
On a perfect sea
I accept you for being just like me.
The bullets and bombs are flung
Families running for their lives
No electronic connection
No worldly perfection
Moulded for the perfect
Francis a Willey