Thursday, 27 October 2016

Poem of the Day

The Second Coming

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If we had known he was coming
we would have played our drums
till our fingers bled.
Our women
would have decorated themselves
painting their bodies and nails
and weaving colours into their hair
they would have laid their wrappers
down on the dusty ground
for him to walk over.
We would have hung banners
from the trees
and buntings would adorn every house.
We would have proclaimed
the day
a public holiday
and we would all have gathered and waited,
danced and sang
and made merry
while we waited for him to come.

But not he,
like a master that catches his servant sleeping
like a thief that comes silently in the night
like a ghost that blows in with the morning dew
he came.
no drums, no trumpets, no praise-singer
heralded his arrival
and he was standing in our midst
before we even knew it.

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