11 April 2017

Old enemy, we meet and find that we are not so

Different, in the bows and cups that we exchange

And now that we converse with voices oft controlled, we know

That if we'd simply left our blades and parted ways,

We'd still sing out "Praise god from whom all blessings flow"

 

New friend, be seated I beseech you so

Softly, gently in my motions and my heart

And as we greet at hearth and fire-friendly, know

the light will cast two shadows on our faces, eerily the same

And by our bread and salt we are but brothers now, come home