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As the dark clouds drift slowly overhead
and the sun gleams between them with shafted ray
the shower of rain that grows our bread
wets the road across the bay.

Across the harbour gleams the colours
stretched in an arch over the city
the rainbow that shall always be ours
shining through the rain without pity.

Where is the end of that great bow
that man seeks for his pot of gold
'tis there son, just across from now
when time stands still and life is cold.

  sig rex
  (c) 1999

Soul of man

The soul of man cries out in pain
no matter what he does he cannot gain
the world turns just the same
and the cries are lost in the main.

Oh nature, why cannot you show
the way mankind should go?
is there some undesired fate
for which mankind must wait?

Brief sparks of light in the mist
appear from some who have the gist
but all fade away in the light
of each new dawn we sight.

Where is mankind destined to go?
what is he designed to do?
must he forever wander in the dark
waiting for his soul to spark?

Why do most souls flounder
when the answer is just under
their own shell of consciousness
awaiting the call of unselfishness.

We live our lives, mostly in vain
full of troubles, full of pain
and yet the desire for real love
is there on the wings of the dove.

We cage the dove, and lose
that which we want to pose
if we free the dove and strive
it spreads its wings to fly.

The soul of man cries out in vain
Oh God! why so much pain
desire and lust create the strain
and man goes on, his soul to drain.

sig rex 
(c) may 1999