Nephilim Of the loa, who can know? The Baron's top hat, Legba's way - Does the ridden know the rider? A silent hand sets all in motion While angels gamble for the robe. Did we trade our wings for sorrow? No word of thanks can but be bought At dearest cost. No good unpunished. What were we thinking to be born? And yet in mortal flesh we walk and talk To see the hidden hand of Providence. Did She know that this world would draw us so? copyright 28 May 2000 by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw; New Orleans.