“All people become brothers
Where your gentle wing rests.”
—Ode to Joy by Beethoven
Now join the women in their choir of peace
Ye men who march off to war
To make a living killing fellow men.
What a way a living to make!
Pity the slaughtered you leave behind
In your wake, pity those they leave behind.
— —
Calling all souls that are tired and weary.
When your spirit is used and feeling dreary,
Retire your weapons and pick up your good will.
Pass on a compliment, hold your heart still
Let “All people become brothers.”
Come forth and join us, sing in our choir,
No one is to pay, no one is for hire,
Membership voluntary, love for a fee;
In return, my friend, all hugs are free
“Where your gentle wing rests.”
When you let yourself down and want to cry,
Don’t know how to let your bygones go by,
Join the choir, forgive yourself and live again,
All are welcome in the brotherhood glen.
Let “All people become brothers.”
We, the Brotherhood of Man, hand in hand,
Hear our hearts sing, one universal band,
Each singing our part, together greater than each,
Each an essential part of the whole, the whole world to teach.
For “All people become brothers
Where your your gentle wing rests.”
—H. W. Bryce
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
