A Country's Call

Come,
Look into my chambered white and green halls
Of division and denigration,
Cluttered with self-serving antiques

I am all shades of black
and blue
Punched in walls,
And broken doors,
Signal my doom.

Come ,
Come look.

I see them coming,
Sojourners.
From lands far and near,
Known and unknown,
Some to stay,
Some passing through,
And I cower.
For what shelter have I to offer
With my broken doors
And shattered windows,
Punched in walls
Oh...and the stench of piled up grubbiness and festering dreams.

Come,
Come look.

I am sturdy.
I've stood this tall,
For this long.
But for how much longer.
I feel the tremblings of a submergence.

Come,
Come look,
Come fix.

You! Yes, You!
Come,
Come look,
Come fix.

There's mortar, wood & glass aplenty.
You wield the harmer and the nails.
I see your arms flex with muscle.
You're strong!

Clear out the clutter!
Free up space.
Let fresh air slip in
And find room to dance
Around my chambered white and green halls

When it's done,
You would sit on my porch,
Proud
And I, radiant
And we'll watch sojourners walk in
With their gleeful faces.

6 comments:

  1. Great tapestry. Beautifully written. I love the crispness! Its enjoyably readable .Well-done Anita

    Joey Nathaniel John.

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  3. This is simply beautiful. Great job, Anita.

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