Modern World Poem by ENOCH JOHN

Where does the wind of inspiration blow these days,
In other words, where is the muse of poetry?
Can we hear the muse in this modern world,
Above the noisy traffic and the bedlam of the city?

These gigantic edifices, these modern day towers of Babel,
That seemingly point to heaven but cannot take you there,
In Manhattan and London, a skyline of concrete and glass,
In a modern world where the beauty of nature is scarcely seen.