---

swept away

swept away like dust
under the rug,
or a mighty coastline
in the wake of a typhoon,
as a castaway flung
to a desert island,
or scraps of paper 
caught in a gust of wind,
like a grain of sand 
carried into the sea-

gone are those days
when I sat silent,
complacent in my land 
of peaceful dreams;
gone is the hope,
the work of millions
to keep one country free,
vanished with the dawn
along a new horizon,
quick as lightning strikes

but I will not mourn alone-
such work, such days 
still live inside me,
heavenly spirits awake,
waiting in a world 
somewhere in between;
so I will shine a light
into this new darkness,
longing and fighting
for their resurrection

and a day will come
when tides roll back,
when the rug’s pulled up,
when the lovely ghosts
of hopeful days return,
and every sandy grain
or speck of dust
once hidden or forgotten,
will still be waiting there,
and show itself anew

---

Listen to this poem read aloud: