Threads of hope
Beckon
Intent not so clear
But mission known,
That one coming morning
The scene will be so different
The stage so terrific
When our eyes will have to believe
What we will have to see.
Like magic makers,
Though not one
Rigors and toil
will be rewarded
Corn will yield corn,
Nettle will bring forth nettles.
No different from its kind.
Who will warn
The scoundrels of the land
Who will explain what is clear
Beyond its clarity.
Who will rewrite life
And let those who still don't believe
Do so.
About this coming summer morning
When common men will dine with kings
On the high table
Tell me?
Who will explain this.
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