Address to the Unco' Concerned . . . or the overly interested and rigidly re-assuring
Your gift is growth ~ a blood red rose, It is the listener in ourselves,
that bleeds into our ears, the body's music, bare,
so, gently, with a cultured nose, that sings of spacious sub-atomic
be wary wells and clear infinite springs
o' yer ain fears and foibles, of understanding,
man or mouse, not as we may think, for
I welcome clean attention, that is aye beyond our grasping, no
though dinnae 'magine that my house a common sense beneath
will suffer lang yer watchin', our thirst
if you see nothin' o' yersel, we may tak' a cup and drink from.
while gazin' at another, So friend take heed
you'll nae be any use tae me, of how you form the very definition
whoever, of such a term as friendship,
sister, brother. I urge some room in yer description.
Respect a healthy dis-interest in
No scientist or soldier, whatever may be brewing
priest or politician, mind yer business, keep yer counsel
no guru, guide or teacher an' you'll stop yer heed fae stewing
can hope to share
a vision, of a future Still, you'll aye be welcome,
formed in lead. 'roon ma hoose
Rigid. wi' a' yer force sae gentle, if
Drowning in opinion. for some small simple time
We all stake empty claims ye loose ~ what binds yer look
to wear sae mental.
the uniform of freedom. if not . . . there's the door.
