The Coming

Hearts beat fast in those ferocious times,
feet feared to linger, faces to swap warm smiles.
Frantic mothers searched for clues, wondered how
to keep their children safe. Fathers sized up fallen wood
for hiding-huts and barricades. Former neighbours
closed and locked their doors, fast against intrusions.
No-one talked any more: isolation, silence, fear
paved the way to war. And yet, this was not all.

Today, a stranger's infant, born beyond the city wall,
wails for comfort, streams sounds none can ignore.
Her cries scythe the air, call out clear to empty hearts,
to every desperate citizen. 'Come, my dearest people,
gather round my cradle.' And so, barriers tumble.
Fascists slink away, faced with people holding hands.
Today, at last, hate is routed, love's respect holds sway