Upon your brow of vanished hours, a shadow does appear,
Of lost and lonely sufferings,
Which took away your years.
A soul now flies with knowledge strong,
A higher recompense,
A woman’s death to feed a hate,
Has no reason rhyme or sense.
First they cried “you evil witch” for things misunderstood,
Laying what’s unclear to them,
Beneath the pyres of wood.
Today just like your time dear Bess,
The voice of darkness cries,
To put to death and out of sight,
Beliefs for which we strive.
Your life and trials are teaching us,
That hatred comes from nought,
Let us work to welcome in new ways upon our thoughts.
To see the Good in different ways, Expressions of our souls,
Recompense for missing years which bias cruelly stole.
May our minds indeed be held,
With Love so strong and deep,
Away from hate we turn ourselves,
To Truth that all are free.
When we point to neighbour’s faults,
With pinions cruelly slanted,
May we recall when hate does fall,
To take it not for granted.
May your soul rise up today,
To teach and bless mankind,
So we may live much better lives,
Than hatred, walking blind.
Joseph McTaggart.