Whats Up!





Farrell Dyde


Photo Gallery


What's New


Contact Us


Farrell Dyde
D  A  N  C  E    T  H  E  A  T  R  E


      My concern is not commerce
      Nor the flow of business
      Nor the smooth face that sleeps at night
      But rather the lined face
      the weathered face
      that has risked
      has seeked
      to move, to dive
      beneath the surface
      To feel what other's have not felt
      Nor dared to feel
      what has receded into darkness
      To spin lead into gold
      To seek mystery
      rather than the predictable gray
      of pin striped suits
      moving on their way
      To make a life where voices sing
      not from the tomb
      but about everything
      The birds
      the great wonder of trees
      the bark of dogs
      breaking the silence of the night
      Even the grind of motors
      that men have built
      spreading seeds of human guilt

      It is this sense
      this sense of wonder
      so lost in modern blunder
      that I seek to keep alive
      even as I strive
      to preserve
      the very self
      that seeking self
      that keeps me alive

      Will I make it to the end?
      Only God can know
      for men pretend to know
      the answers
      explain the truth
      the human truth
      Am I just a child who refuses to grow up
      And accept the fact that we can never know,
       never know, never know?


[Home] [Welcome] [Mission] [Farrell Dyde] [History] [Repertory] [Poetry] [Support] [New Home] [Dat Is Het] [Mountains]