Travails with a conscience

It came from far away
And nestled nearer home
All the while beside me
From birth to when I’d grown

My travails with a conscience lay
Still active – I had known
It came from far away –
Perched by my very own

And every time I saw her
She looked peaceful –
Like the sand
Reaching out from yonder
Saying; Come, now –
Hold my hand

Whenever I would touch her
She’d shiver – as if scared
I’d think, again, and wonder
Whether storm-clouds over there

Would rain on the parade
That had gathered, with the band
Yet my travails, with a conscience
Would reach out, and hold my hand