Where once fell white ashes now grow green stands
Of tulip and juniper and amsonia blue.
Where once spouted orange fire now run sapphire streams
Filled with fish and lilies knocked askew.

Someone gave to get what we got and
I’m as thankful as they.
Everyone sees what we are, not are not
And tries to lead someone astray.

And where does that leave the
Few who remain true?
When others seem lost to us
Seeing the wisdom in our archaic muse?

We are where we are and we
Are what we may be.
Let sing everyone of fire and
Ashes and dead tree.

We dance still on of aster and baptisia,
And iris and tradescantia and emerald green.
We are someone and that is enough, enough
For everyone to see

That someday there will be
Blue in the sky hellfire will
Be gone and banners of serenity will fly.
The dust will settle and what shall remain?

We will remain; not us perhaps,
But people who think much the same.
Everyone will be someone and maybe, finally
Our world will see

We are all the same, different
Perhaps, but when we are all someone noone
Will heed the
Everyone someone used to be.