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Description
The cat at the window fears nothing, not the
Scourge of the sun nor the flight of the missile, nor
The coming of the hand nor the anger of the day nor
The treachery of the night. Sleeping, the cat at the window
Knows that the world is iron, that some things shall not be.

Says the cat to his brother:
Wake! Fool, wake and gird yourself the day
Comes! Danger is at our doorstep, Hannibal at the gates, the
Promise of green fields and slow prey is out there! Can you not
See it, can you not almost feel the air that would be blowing?

Says the one who sleeps, Jesus in the boat:
No. Sleep, brother, with closed eyes sleep and wait. See this--
A barrier. The world is hard and we are soft, it does not give way
Before creatures of flesh. The faith of Geoffrey in God is ours, who
Go about the lords bidding in the morning, prowling in the night electric
But who sleep in the dread hot. There's no getting to the promise just as
The faith of Windows keeps us from the danger of the world.

Says the cat playing Thomas:
But promise! the world wide and great, where we may yet remake and make
What we wish! How the colors will shift and the birds flee! We, you and I,
Bounding through these things that you call windows, if I simply--

There was no progress made in forcing.
Says the one who sleeps as Jonah in the whale prays:
No, the world is as iron and you and nothing can change that for those who
Have chosen one slavery for another, picked a master who is god and
Abandoned one who is evil. Try as you might, but the window is only lovely
To the light and that which feeds on light, for you and I in fleshy bodies it is not.
The fault's not in design, brother who longs for the risk and the folly of waste,
But in ourselves, that we desire things with no thought.

Description
The cat at the window fears nothing, not the
Scourge of the sun nor the flight of the missile, nor
The coming of the hand nor the anger of the day nor
The treachery of the night. Sleeping, the cat at the window
Knows that the world is iron, that some things shall not be.

Says the cat to his brother:
Wake! Fool, wake and gird yourself the day
Comes! Danger is at our doorstep, Hannibal at the gates, the
Promise of green fields and slow prey is out there! Can you not
See it, can you not almost feel the air that would be blowing?

Says the one who sleeps, Jesus in the boat:
No. Sleep, brother, with closed eyes sleep and wait. See this--
A barrier. The world is hard and we are soft, it does not give way
Before creatures of flesh. The faith of Geoffrey in God is ours, who
Go about the lords bidding in the morning, prowling in the night electric
But who sleep in the dread hot. There's no getting to the promise just as
The faith of Windows keeps us from the danger of the world.

Says the cat playing Thomas:
But promise! the world wide and great, where we may yet remake and make
What we wish! How the colors will shift and the birds flee! We, you and I,
Bounding through these things that you call windows, if I simply--

There was no progress made in forcing.
Says the one who sleeps as Jonah in the whale prays:
No, the world is as iron and you and nothing can change that for those who
Have chosen one slavery for another, picked a master who is god and
Abandoned one who is evil. Try as you might, but the window is only lovely
To the light and that which feeds on light, for you and I in fleshy bodies it is not.
The fault's not in design, brother who longs for the risk and the folly of waste,
But in ourselves, that we desire things with no thought.