a slow descent

Now is the time
to speak of love, not in a whisper
but  roars like the howl of storm and sea
like thunders in the belly of world
when Titans shift brawny shoulders
and the Earth groans

Now is the time
to raise voice and claim peace,
for it is not easy on the hardest day.

Now is the time when innocent ground
hungers, and dry leaves of the season
have nothing to give, it is the time
for the higher part of the heart
to sing a song in future tense;
when we can look back and see
a season of our hands raised in anger,
and a slow descent into reason.