line in like a marching songs waiting to hear
the bangs of the tumble and the drum its voice
splashing the high-way of beginning journey
of victory
look about the bits and pieces of the past, as the
course of the new world, has comes the new
meting of hope, melt the swords of wonder and
thirst of bloodless taste of harmony amongst
every heart, privy the path of what the soul offer
of thanks giving in the face of birth
stream out the generation of faith and purify the
dense dirt’s of gable in filtering fog of snow in
the pasture of mercy, towards men of
righteousness
forward little steps, the muddy feet look strange,
now take the course of change cleanse the carpet
beyond time wait you, in thy Father home
it’s open, dear soul ……
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem