Soft Like Beating Wings

Soft like beating wings
Their voice a whisper in my ear
Light and delicate they sing
To me the things I long to hear

Cold as the kiss of winter hail
On the hood of my old red truck
On the worn down country trail
That leads them away from luck

Oh, rage like the dying embers of day
A fight ‘til breath is gone
And life is all thrown away
Still knowing not where they belong

Sacred like whispers in the old brown field
Where life once had a place
Not now, it won’t be healed
Flowers passed through time and space

Sadder than the cry of the darkened water
That wails for the kiss of air
And mourns the needless, horrific slaughter
Of her children, unaware

Dead as the bones that lie in the ground
Wandering through the soil
Lost and scared, screaming to be found
Their coffins slick with oil

Ignored like the earth they hold so dear
Disasters that they know will pass
Oh, hark, the anger and the fear
The greed they far surpass

Harsh like the truth that is never revealed
But known to the hearts of all
They know as well that their fates have been sealed
In the blood of the mountains that fall

Broken like the system they held above life
Gone like the peace they didn’t think was right
Hurting like the ones who were struck by their knife
Forgotten like the men who died for their fight

A fight that was fought for the wrong color green
The beauty of life is the sound of their screams