What must be seen
Lamp of the body
Exodus of innocence
Sentinel for the sleeping
With one two-way
Lines of children climbing the stairs
Of a library, quietly, orderly,
Right hands brushing along the rail.
I didn’t see a single face.
I did hear the laughter
Of kids on the big slide on the steep hill.
As I passed they were visible for a moment,
Before disappearing down, out of sight.
I was searching for sunlight, to backlight
The groundforms and lifeforms before me,
In gratitude, in remembrance
Of an old way of thinking and seeing,
In anticipation of the new way of being
And relating, with the ever-present,
Underlying, repressed reality.