On Her Wishing A Wish

A breeze through the brazen world—
Where none but the dead bodies of hope
Keep on waiting to find someone to help them cover their faces,
Where numb hands die for a soft live touch,
Where eyes, turned to stones, remain open for ever,
Where it is a big gain to keep one’s head on one’s body;
Someone wishes a wish,
To touch the winds to bring rain
Seeks friends to be a friend—
A breeze through the brazen ruins, rusting iron, dusty paths, burning coals,
Sinking hearts, sickening scenes… reaches to my dumb ears.
My deaf tongue tastes the honey of a mouthful of songs
Instead of some salty metallic juices,
Which always kept on pouring through the pores of the great new world.
Messiah’s touch enlivens the dead hopes,
Numb hands rise to thank the new Messiah
Stone eyes roll a little and shed tears of gratitude…