Invisible Hands
A hundred thousand bodies in constant motion
fill the city, clamber about
the metal and glass and plastic and concrete,
as if trying to scratch the itch of these buildings with celestial ambitions.
Invisible hands move the bodies.
These hearts and minds and souls
are not at peace, are not
at rest with the indwelling spirit of heaven.
Some of the bodies are pushed down
by these hands, and stoop as if
filled with preternatural gloom;
other bodies, younger, seem uplifted,
yet the earnest gleam in their eyes
speaks of an emptiness within.
Even the repose of these bodies
is replete with activity.
And in all the bodies, the soft sweet call
of the eternal goes unanswered.
DH