and there’s this alleyway <br />and a passage, then a door, <br />ordinary, but <br />the pavement in front of it <br />has been carefully swept this morning; <br />you came upon it by chance, <br />but now you’re here, it <br />seems important; <br /> <br />an old man - well, <br />old for that part of the world - <br />probably not long to live, but <br />erect, still, extraordinary eyes, <br />they seem to see everything; <br />doesn’t say much, but <br />ask him any question in the world <br />and he gives you an answer <br />you’ll remember for the rest <br />of your changed life <br /> <br />he says, it’s all, all love; <br />and so are you <br /> <br />then there’s this dusty road <br />to a small town <br />in a country built by faith <br />now torn apart by faith, <br />run by political masters from abroad; <br />a pub that takes overnighters, <br />an outbuilding - well, <br />more a lean-to to shelter the animals <br />on a cold windy night; <br /> <br />a baby’s first smile, something <br />its parents remember all their lives; <br />it seems to say, <br />it’s all, all love; <br />and so are you<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0007-holding-the-world/
