The New Worlds Pattern Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A hand reaches out, across the sea,
To touch a land that wants to be,
Just on its own, to find its way,
But finds that help arrives today.

Sometimes it's soldiers, strong and bold,
To change a story, new to be told.
Sometimes it's money, tied with string,
To make the markets dance and sing.

A noble reason, often bright,
To make things fairer, set things right.
Protect the weak, the lost, the poor,
And open up a needed door.

But hands can fumble, plans can fail,
And leave behind a bitter trail.
A land disrupted, torn apart,
A wounded body, heavy heart.

Inside the borders, laws take hold,
The market shaped, a story told.
Taxes rise, and prices set,
The guiding hand, we can't forget.

So intervention, sharp and keen,
A tangled web, a complex scene.
Of motives mixed, and outcomes strange,
A constant dance, a world to change.


T.M.Solvang