SPRING

Believers feed religions
Rivers feed the Sea
Who made the well

Spring

To an uncivil war
In Mars manic month
Desolate of decency

Attacked by the broken glass underfoot

Better sit still sun on back
As the ants till and mill
Crawling from a crack

Than to destroy ourselves

Better to sacrifice
To ourselves
ourselves

God does not
Need our faith
To be God

Do you need mine

The old mine leads to the well
And the well                 spring