A Little Child Will Lead Them.

I looked and saw thousands of children, spilling

over the land, their eyes all alight and shining;

bright as the sunlight on the bright blue sea.

——

They danced and sang as they came, and their

many hued faces laughing with delight – for

these are cheerful children favoured by fortune .

———

I turned and saw a a multitude of small folk

walking to meet them; their gaunt faces and 

stumbling gait, like flotsam on a grey sea.

————

Some covered in dust from mines, some worn

thin by slavery, some battered by abuse and still

they come,  looking for kindling for their hope.

————

They meet in a garden, fruitful and seed bearing;

all things are possible. And, I see the blindness of

the privilege – as the dancing ones dance on, as

—–

if their world is their right. And the grimness of 

loss unreal. Taught so well by their parents and 

the guardians of our governments. Their lashes

———–

hid their peeping eyes as they swerved to avoid,

a hand raised to ward off wretchedness and waste,

I watch it -weeping in my soul and praying. Then

——-

a courageous number stop and take the sad hands of

boys and girls, they look into their eyes and learn 

of the terrors and terrible pains they have endured. 

————

Then together they turn and walk into a future, where

children lead the way to justice, fair shares are for all,

and build a world where every child matters and, yet

—————-

still the others march on, ignoring their oppression,

fearfully, fleeing away from uncomfortable feelings

to a self-centred future where shame has died. 

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H

margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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