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 ramblings and things

Water Wars III

It was the sacred Seventh Day and you could feel the  rising awe
As the Shaman was carried forward greeted by the symbolic silent roar
She was withered and frail, the keeper of the lores of the ancient days
You had to strain to hear as she told her learned tales of former ways
She told when Essence of Life was there always there at hand
And she painted such vivid pictures for our always thirsty band
How the people were free to move about in full open sight
Not needing like us to skulk through the cool of the night
She told of the ever rising salt waters the world around
Of the lands of The Eldorado the melting ice had drowned
How the Priests of the Science foretold the coming flood
How the leaders did not believe because life was so good
To worry about the problems for their children children's day
So the leaders wickedly and selfishly frittered the world away
As she drew to her finish she briefly opened up her coat
To show the mystic symbol hanging there at her throat
The battered shiny symbol of one of the Old Lords
A plastic and metal key for a long ago rusted Ford
Then reverently carefully she was carried away
As the tribe went to earth for the forthcoming day

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