Puppetdipity

Puppetdipity

In the absence of essence there’s puppet

As there is no lawn but grass

In the waning of wanting there’s haunting

As there is no fuel but gas

What makes the hand move the puppet

A trick we treat so dear

What makes Human into Muppet

But a mater of maker with fear

Coming to conscious is creative

A construct of cunning with care

As paper dries hard to resemble

That which not longer can tear

The struggle for strings is an old one

The feeling to fight or to flee

We’ve chosen a path of liberation

In absence world we want to see

And if the new head on our shoulders

Needs think of the next way to fight

With props puppets and people

We’ll brazen that dawn of new night