HE HEARD THE POLITICIAN’S COIN

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 By Sr. Esther Jeruto Koros (OSF)

       






There were voices:

 Some wearisome, others awesome. 

Ringing in his head’s ring round

Alluringly lovely, lively seeking to be heard.

Others dinky and mucky drove one away

But these he didn’t hear. 

 

There were some sounds too

The Angelus bell, the beckoning swallow.

The quarrelsome trees, tempestuous rivers

The guttural engines, the fetid whiff

The wiry smoke, the rushing motors

Seeking a grin, entreating concession

But these he didn’t hear.

 

 

Puzzling, isn’t it?

How he opted to listen;

Not to the Master but to the servant.

His distantly vague gaze;

Brightened at the sight

Of cars glamorous and Porsche.

Of outfits fair and handsome

His countenance cheered by the jingling coins.

Oh! These he heard, and keeps hearing


Like Lazarus, he will live on the residues.

Not looking the gift horse in the mouth,

He's deafness contrived by means of the politician’s coin. 

Appallingly sad, for he will never hear the voice of love. 

 

 

© August 2020

0726179789 

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