Gods Hands

I brush the sky with my hand, Pressing the wind with my breath. With the clapping of thunder as I move my body— Nature kneels to my power As I command the land. Its beautiful landscape amazes men to this day, In my ability to change the mood of many as I write With this ability I have hurt, But I have also given hope To where there was not before.

Can you truly say I have nothing to give— When I have shown so much to this place? Of an unknown passion, Dear world--you need not fight to hate; For the words of scholars can break a man, Rather than a fist breaking the man in two. It is 'hate' that takes out minds, And the cruelty that lives within our corruption That makes a nation fall to arms— What a sight, as I walk the land in time.

A place that never dies, Where a world shall never fade With its inhabitants far from death. Immortality, A word for the gods with their ambrosia, Drinking from the cup of life, As the party on Olympus rages till morn'. Look at the mountains covered in snow, Watch the blue sky caress the clouds on high, As they both wash over the mount from which I came. To green hills of Ireland, Where the people of little dance to the light Around their gold— And sing a merry song of joy and triumph.

To the new world with you, The place of liberty Forged in battle and held by hope. A land where freedom runs, And my fore fathers stood With a flag of stars in a ring of strength, To which all must pass Giving a place to burdened children, From the world around. Now my place is set, In this new land— That I call home, With the Americans I call my brothers and sisters. Because there’s nothing like you, New World.