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Stirrings


Will the coin become a mine
or days remain in happy times
the baby teeth will grasp like iron
and muscles grow though taciturn
the last messiah then should arrive
and meet a world of those still wise
mumbling prayers or starting a trade
and not peturbed by anything
subsequent days will be merry
meet dense traffic in the city
pedestrians trekking in the street
silent shoes to shield from heat
miracles turn the begging corners
from filled with cripples to sweet flowers
misery then may disappear
or still persist for us to wear
the lesssons run into a wind
carrying all and their stirrings

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