There’s a presence in the air,
Whispering to us all.
Something calling to us all, yea
Some daylight left before nightfall
And yet all who walk ‘neath the beckoning sky pay no attention, just barely listen,
And they blink on, move on before the message even sinks.
So there ain’t much left that’s really dear
Except all they’ve been told to fear,
While the multitudes march on, choosing to listen and failing to hear.
You sailed the Mediterranean Sea,
Knowing beyond the horizon, past terror and past its mystery
Lie in the land of Ithaca your beloved Penelope
And it pained you to know
How with each passing hour,
Every crashing day and falling year,
She stood alone
So cold, afraid. Unsure and in pain
As you cried out ‘Oh, Penelope!’