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The conductor’s hands work feverishly
as more components blend into the
hideous melody. Slowly, the
crescendo builds.
As it does, the cloud forms
over the earth, waiting…
Waiting for the note to signify
the apex of the concerto — where “it”
can strike the final chord.
When “its” chord is struck,
the unearthly wails of tortured
human minds and souls begin
their chorus.
Mutilated and mutated
bodies dance; the grotesque steps
become more staggered and
jumbled, until the music is no more.
And life ends
as we knew it….
So…this is war.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I had just finished reading an article in a veteran’s magazine about the atomic bombs – this verbal picture painted itself in my mind. (I often see what others are saying or writing.) I was told my guides wanted me to understand today’s type of war. Sad and disturbing.
Jan Toomer
(NOV95)
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