Calling Tomorrows is an original work, inspired by Tomorrow’s Calling by Marianne Faithfull.

Listen to Calling Tomorrows by Richard Charles Stevens (Tomorrow’s Calling Suite)

Listen to Tomorrow’s Calling by Marianne Faithfull

And I wonder when all is said and done
What will the future be

Will communities grow from the grass roots
All class groups be in the same classroom together
Once we weather this storm will we find our true form
Will we spill forth in droves to run free through the groves

Will yesterday’s blues echo dearly through petals resumed the
bloom nature composed
Will flower faeries dare to wear rings upon their fingers and bells on the ends of their toes
Will bluebells compel to unfurl for the bees
Red roses propose to wed girls in pearl earrings
Will the breeze ease or swell at reveal of the clearing
And will the felled rise swiftly from their knees

This is a brave new world we are nearing
When clearly the old was not healing
Maybe in nature’s own way
It was revealing that our labours were our ceilings
Our behaviour unappealing
While the feelings we were wasting were disgracefully evasive
Couldn’t see
We couldn’t hear
We couldn’t feel
Or smell
Or taste it
Until we learned to love what bared us naked

Will yesterday’s blues echo dearly through petals resumed the
bloom nature composed
Will flower faeries dare to wear rings upon their fingers and bells on the ends of their toes

Where wildflowers grow in approachable silence

And I wonder when all is said and done
Will our porcelain hearts promise skies to confide all the secrets we keep deep inside them
With light to delight in and shine bright to guide them

Will yesterday’s blues echo dearly through petals resumed the
bloom nature composed
Will flower faeries dare to wear rings upon their fingers and bells on the ends of their toes

Will our noses crinkle thinking of osmosis so revealing
That we owe a grand ovation to the wizardry of science

Will we not be so pistol quick to exist
When the trick is sincerely to live
To give all held inwardly
Good grace to breathe
And embrace supernature unsheathed
What will the future be
If not our own to glean
From dreams where we play at the vale wading streams
Inbetween woods and the trees
Please
Take them away
They’re free

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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