Glass Sea

You look up at the great, glass ceiling,
the light filters in–
dappling colours and patterns; revealing
the walls and columns and tapestries,
meticulously detailing apple trees,
and Adam and Eve’s travesties,
and you wonder and gaze.
You marvel at the quality of line,
when painters and sculptors and builders
changed the world. Yet the Renaissance,
which we so admire, created the
situation with which we now compete:
prejudices that reign complete.
And those opposed, fall to their feet
because no-one can escape.
Resistances only grow, as those above fail to see
the contradictions, the horrors,
the problems with the beautiful, glass sea
upon which they stand. They believe
that those below only perceive
a false concept they use to deceive;
‘Those people were destined to fail’
they say. ‘It doesn’t affect me’,
‘I can’t see it, hear it, touch it, feel it’,
and those at the top agree:
‘It doesn’t exist,
there’s no need to resist,
why do they persist?’
Perhaps you should walk a mile in their shoes.
They’re dirty, they’re poor,
the exact opposite of
all that you saw
when you went on that expensive vacation,
leaving your nation,
you found your salvation
whilst they suffered starvation,
not to mention ablation;
meanwhile your dictation,
earns a standing ovation,
the living carnation
of a sensation
of elation.
But you deny
and you lie,
a far cry
from the ‘good guy’
you pretend to be.
Now we’re saying goodbye!
You placed the ceiling high up in the sky,
trying to break the record,
aspire beyond those churches and basilicas, the palace of Versailles.
But we reached out to Jacob
and now we have a ladder to climb.
After all this time
we’ve reached our prime,
And we’re breaking through.