1892
Life back then, so pure, so true.
At one with nature as, the coal fire kindles warmly.
No lamp, just moonshine.
Voices filled with laughter, swell the atmosphere with glee.
The surroundings so serene.
An owl’s hoot, not a clock’s chime.
In the morning, a cock’s crow and a new sunrise.
A nightingale’s lullaby sings the babes to sleep.
All drink from the same bowl that overflows with love and compassion.
A woolen blanket warms the innocence.
The dusty road tracks tramped upon by horse’s hooves, bringing forth the father of all.
Carrying in his bundles, wax dolls to please the child of birth.
Her flinching eyes know not of the gifts her bearer brings.
The new life will see a revolution come forth, that will abolish this tranquility.
From dusty road tracks, to clamorous motorways.
From horse and cart, to train and track.
God give us peace, in this world and the next.

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