Returning us to Children and The Chorus. Two poems by Paul Murphy

Returning us to Children

And the fear that night breeds
Disappears with the shining of a light,
But the fear that day brings
Disappears with the words
That act as light,
Words, that in their magnitude, form a chorus.
And in the throb of that hallowed call
Fear is but a fading shadow,
Small and insignificant,
A whisper
Until it is no more.
And in it’s wake
The chorus becomes a song,
That stirs
And sways
And moves us all,
Returning us to children.

The Chorus

In that moment
A great stillness filled the land,
As cities which once roared with life
Were silent.
Streets no longer teemed with noise
No footsteps sounded,
No cars filled the roads
As everything lay empty and bare,
Even the animals were still.
And at windows
Where rainbows shone,
The people stood and listened,
And as the hour struck,
In unison, they started,
Creating a noise that filled the air.
And the animals woke from their slumber,
For the sound that spilled forth
Celebrated those that had long been forgotten,
As voices hollered
And hands clapped,
And the darkening sky
Filled with the sound of explosions,
As fireworks danced amongst the stars
Lighting those faces that hung from open windows.
And hungry, the noise grew louder,
As voices continued to lift and call out to one another
Forming a crescendo,
Driving fear from the streets,
Until, finally, with tired hands and whispered voices,
The silence returned
Only now, much changed,
For on it’s skin was forever the mark
When we announced
With unbridled joy,
That we are still here,
We exist.

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